


Playin' For Keeps

by Artemis_Day



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe, F/M, Loki is a god of rock, hair metal, rockstar!au, some sexual themes- ch. 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:48:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 42,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/Artemis_Day
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1987.  Jane Foster is just another struggling grad student, trying to reach her dreams and resist the urge to kill her crazy metal loving best friend.  Until said friend drags her along to her favorite band's concert, and one very mysterious and sexy guitarist throws her whole life out of order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Wanna Rock

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this little AU in my head for some time now. I think it started around the time Rock of Ages came out and somebody on my dash joked about wanting to see Loki in a Stacee Jaxx cosplay. It got me thinking, what if I wrote a short little AU with Loki as a rock star in the 1980s. That might make a fun Lokane drabble. 
> 
> Now, obviously, it didn't pan out the way I thought it would. My little drabble fic turned into this enormous thing that I am still in the process of writing. As if I needed another chapter fic...
> 
> Never the less, I have been teasing this fic like crazy since August now, and I'm not going to back down! Plus, it's great to finally explore my inordinate love of all things 80s in fanfic. I hope you all enjoy this crazy ride into the era of big guitars and even bigger hair (and lots of cheesiness as that last line should hopefully exemplify).
> 
> Alright everyone, let's rock!

This was by far the worst idea Darcy Lewis had ever had.  Jane was sure to hiss this in her ear as the two of them were ushered backstage amid thousands of screaming fans into a cramped hallway filled with security guards and roadies running all around them with disassembled instruments over their shoulders.

“Oh don’t be such a buzzkill, Jane,” was Darcy’s answer, and the only one she would be giving for the rest of the night.

At the moment, a black clad man carrying a guitar had all her attention.  Darcy shrieked like a banshee and ran after him, demanding to know who the guitar belonged to and if she could touch it.  Jane stayed back, safely hidden behind a metal pillar, and tried not to develop a skull splitting headache.  It was a daunting task.

She never should have let Darcy convince her to come here.  Her best friend of ten years and roommate of five never seemed to have a care from the day they met.  If Jane didn’t know for a fact that Darcy had been fired from her last job and her half of the rent was going to be late for the third month in a row, she might have believed it.  Darcy just wasn’t the type of person to let things get to her.  She’d rather have as much fun as possible until she couldn’t any longer.  It was a trait Jane envied and hated in equal measure, barring nights like tonight.

She came running back now, her much too short skirt threatening to flip up and the strings of her shirt coming undone.

“Dude, I totally just snuck this guitar pick off the roadie!”  She had her ill-gotten prize in Jane’s face like it was the Holy Grail and not just a piece of plastic.  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

 _‘Don’t announce it to the world,’_ Jane thought.

“So when do we actually see the band?” she asked tiredly.  “Or do we just stand here all night with the groupies.”

She eyed a group of skimpily dressed woman up ahead, playing with their hair and stealing glances into an open door on the right.  Inside, Jane could see the end of a well upholstered couch and some kind of fancy light fixture.  It provided a glowing contrast for the smelly, dirty hallway.

“Why are you so impatient anyway?” Darcy asked, rolling her eyes. “ _You’re_ the only reason we’re here in the first place, remember?”

Jane looked away, remembering it perfectly and wishing she didn’t.  If it wasn’t for Darcy’s ceaseless insistence mixed with her trademark ‘pouty face’ showing up whenever Jane dropped her guard, she wouldn’t even be here.  She’d be in her nice, peaceful room in their nice, peaceful apartment in a nice, peaceful neighborhood that she’d always loved for being… well, nice and peaceful.  She’d be looking over her dissertation papers one more time- rewriting a couple of parts here and there- then she’d lay in her bed and stargaze until bedtime.  If not that, she’d get herself a big bowl of butter pecan ice cream, put on a favorite movie and waste the night away.  Anything but this.

Jane didn’t even listen to this kind of music.  She’d heard a song on the radio once, with the heavy guitars and rough, high vocals that so-called ‘hair metal’ music was famous for, but it was slower and sweeter and Jane found herself humming it for the rest of the day: while she was getting dressed, making her breakfast, sitting in the library before class, coming home.  She never found out the name of the song, never particularly cared to.  Then she let herself hum it in front of Darcy.  Once she did that, Jane might as well have signed her own death warrant.

By the time she went to bed that night, her head was spinning, her eardrums were probably busted, and she’d learned everything she never wanted to know about Darcy’s many favorite bands with names she couldn’t even remember the next morning.  All that was left was the pounding; the horrible, ceaseless _pounding._

That was how Jane arrived at this point, and why she should have torn up Darcy’s front row tickets and pretended the cat did it when she had the chance.  She thought the nightmare was over when the band walked off stage for the final time, and then as Jane was pulling Darcy to the doors (with a bit more fervor than necessary) they were stopped by a very large man with a head covered in red hair.

“Hey there,” he said to them, though Jane had a sinking suspicion that it was mostly her he was addressing.  “Would you lovely ladies like to come backstage and meet the band?”

Of course Jane didn’t, but Darcy was quick to accept the invite for her.  At least twenty different girls Jane had never seen before looked ready to kill them as they were led away.  Jane herself could’ve strangled Darcy for this.

They stood away from the groupies.  Darcy was almost beside herself with excitement and anticipation.  She bounced around, she checked her watch endlessly, she wrung her hands in glee, she made a sound like an ornery cat when the wait got too long.

“Are the ever going to let us in or what?”

“We could just go home,” Jane hopefully suggested, not that she thought it would work.

Whatever sassy retort Darcy had in store (and it was sure to be a good one because she was passionate), Jane never got to hear it.  The red haired man from before exited the band’s room, his girth taking up half of the hallway.

“Alright,” he said, catching all the gathered women’s attention.  Then he pointed at Jane and Darcy.  “You can come in now.”

Darcy’s hand latched painfully onto Jane’s shoulder as she jumped in the air and squealed.

“This is it Jane, this is it!  We’re actually going to meet _Midgard Serpent_.  Can you believe it?”

“No Darcy, I really can’t.”

“Come on now, Sister Christian.”  Darcy pulled her along.

The two of them entered the room.  As predicted, it was a great deal nicer and roomier, with expensive looking- and so far only minimally damaged- white and gold décor.  A barely touched high class dinner of beef wellington was all set up by the window, the obligatory wine bottle upturned and empty.  It didn’t seem to suit the  at all, what with their teased out hair, studded black leather and running make-up.  A couple more girls were littered about the area, draped around the two band members on the couch.

They were half of Midgard Serpent, the biggest band in the world this month.  It was a really bad name for a band, at least that’s what she thought before Darcy started introducing her to some of her others favorite bands and she learned that it could get much, much worse than that (she still wasn’t quite over Whitesnake and the horrible mental images that name gave her).  Before the concert, Darcy had forced Jane through one more cram session.  She sat her through an entire run of the band’s first (so far only) album and feeding her useless bits of trivia about the members that she read in magazines, most of which Jane didn’t believe was true.  The guitarist was immune to poison because he had twelve pet snakes and slept with them in his bed every night.  Yeah right.

At least a little of Darcy’s info was true, though.  For one thing, their bassist was a woman, and that was unheard of.

“You’d have to be damn tough to be in a metal band with a bunch of crazy dudes drinking hard, shooting up and breaking their instruments over everything,” Darcy had said.  “And I hear she’s trained in, like, twenty different styles of martial arts.  Plus, she’s married to a boxer or something, so she could probably kick everyone’s ass fifty ways to Sunday.”

The woman in question was seated away from the two men.  It could only be her; the tight leather corset and arm length fingerless gloves she wore were of the highest quality, and her make-up was impeccably applied.  It was mostly black around the eyes, enhancing her wild black hair and giving her a fierce, intimidating look that made Jane glad she was too busy strumming the strings of her bass and mouthing the lyrics to see them.

“Jane, Jane,” Darcy hissed, her nails digging into Jane’s sensitive flesh.  She stared reverently at the blond headed man with three girls on his arms and a bottle in his hand.  “Fandral is over there.  _The_ Fandral!  Oh my god, I think he’s looking at me!”

“Could you please let go?” Jane asked through grit teeth.  She wiggled around to try and shake her off, to no avail. 

Darcy was not just acting up either.  In spite of the scantily clad woman dry humping him to hell and back, the one called Fandral was indeed looking their way.  He had massively teased out hair like his bandmates, but as the frontman and lead singer, his was bigger and more attention grabbing.  How on earth did anyone maintain hair like that, Jane would never know.  She had enough trouble getting her own to behave every morning.  He had a scruffy, unshaved face and bright blue eyes that would be boyish if taken on their own and not with the rest of his appearance.  He disentangled himself from the girls with ease, like he’d spent his whole life doing it and sauntered over.  They pouted for a while, but contented themselves with rubbing the leather jacket he left behind all over their faces while smiling foolishly.  Jane was starting to understand that the dense alcohol she smelled hadn’t merely come from the band. 

“Well hello ladies,” Fandral said without really seeing anyone but Darcy.  “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

Darcy stepped forward, thankfully letting go of Jane.  She looked at Fandral like she’d just witnessed the second coming of Christ.

“I just want you to know that I love you and will do anything you want me to,” she said.

Jane was feeling a bad headache coming on.

Fandral smirked, crossing his well-muscled arms over his chest and shifting to one side.

“Well, how about we take a walk and discuss that?” he said, offering Darcy a hand that she eagerly took. 

“Oh come on,” Jane moaned as they sauntered off.  “Darcy _please_ don’t have sex with a rockstar on a couch.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” said an Asian man Jane dimly recognized as Hogun, the band’s drummer.  He looked a lot bigger without a needlessly large set of drums in front of him.

“You don’t know Darcy,” Jane said wearily.

“No, but I know Fandral, and he never has a woman in public,” Hogun clarified.  He then motioned at a door in the back, which had a sliver handle and a red ribbon tied to it.  “That’s what the walk-in closet is for.”

 “Okay sure, that’s better…”

Jane pressed herself against the wall, wondering what in God’s name she was even doing back here.  Nobody was talking to her or even acknowledging her existence.  What was she pulled out of the audience for in the first place?  Did the band just have women brought to them at random just in case they decided they wanted them?

“Hey, were you guys sitting in the front row?” Hogun asked suddenly.

Jane blinked, and then looked at him when she realized she was the one being addressed.

“Yeah, that was us.”

A strange silence fell over the whole room.  Even the groupies felt it.  They all stared at her over the jacket, their eyes not judging or angry, just awestruck.  Somehow, that was even worse.

“Uh…” Jane really hated being the center of attention; being so far out of her comfort zone was even worse.  Giving speeches as part of a final exam before her entire class of thirty students?  That was one thing.  She knew what to say then.  This?  Not so much.

“Oh,” said the bassist, looking up from her guitar for the first time.  “So _you’re_ the girl he wanted to see.”

Some of the groupies whispered to each other, but Jane couldn’t be bothered with them.

“Who’s ‘he?’” she asked.

Fandral gave a laugh.  He was on a less crowded couch now with Darcy in his lap and his hand disappearing up her skirt.

“Who?  Why Silvertongue of course!  Who else?”

Jane started to ask who he was referring to.  She knew at least on a conceptual level, every band with a singer, a bassist, and a drummer would need a guitarist to round things out.  He just didn’t appear to be around at all.  She looked behind her, like he’d just been hiding in the shadows and watching her all along.  All she could see was another door, bigger than the walk in closet, with nothing but dull white paint to mark its existence.

“He’s back there,” Hogun said, confirming her suspicions.

“I’m surprised that he asked for you,” Fandral said good-naturedly.  “No offense meant of course, Silvertongue just never asked for anyone before.”

Jane nodded, her vision starting to spin.  Now was probably the time to run to the door, go home and never get out of bed again.  Instead, her feet came to life and steered her all the way around.  As she moved towards the door, her ears sharpened to the chatting groupies.

“I can’t believe Silvertongue asked for _her_ of all people.  She’s not even that pretty.”

“I don’t know, I think she’s cute it a mousy kind of way.  He still should’ve picked me, though.”

“Hey, don’t tell Fandral or Hogun I said this, but I think Silvertongue is definitely the hottest guy in the band.”

“No duh, of course he is!”

“What I wouldn’t give to have him in my bed with some handcuffs and whipped cream…”

Jane opened the door wide, and it was pitch black inside.  Nevertheless, she pressed on, crossing the threshold into the point of no return.

With all outside light blocked, Jane found that the room was not as dark as she thought.  A few candles were lit in the corner, too weak to provide light for anything but that one little space.  They’re just strong enough to show Jane that she was not alone.  The man standing by the wall was obscenely tall with a slender build, all features beyond that hidden in silhouette.  Except for his eyes, which were great and appropriately snake-like upon her, she couldn’t see him at all, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

Did he want her to say something?  Ask a question?  ‘Oh hello, Mr. Silvertongue, is it true that you like to drink blood and bathe in scalding hot water while you summon hellhounds from the seventh circle to do your bidding?’

Why didn’t she go home when she had the chance?

“Um… hi?”

He stretched away from the wall, his movement as precise and fluid as that of a snake.

 “Good evening,” he said, and Jane had to suppress a shiver.  After listening to Fandral’s magnified, ear-splitting shriek for four hours, the so-called Silvertongue’s deep, melodic voice was like caramel candy to her ears.

 “If you’ll just wait a moment.”

He moved away from the candlelight, back into the darkness.  From there, he could have gone anywhere in the world, Jane hadn’t a clue.  She heard his footsteps, but it wasn’t much to go on, only that he was still a short distance away from her and showed no signs of getting closer.  Maybe if she was really discreet about, she could inch her way to the door.

She heard the click of a lighter, and then another side of the room came into view.  With those candles lit, she could see his lengthy form as he stood back up.  He remained shadowed, but the room itself was coming more into focus.  He did the same thing twice more, and then in the middle of the room on the coffee table.  With the whole place bathed in a golden, flickering light, Jane could see a plain white walled room with an inordinate number of guitars surrounding the leather couch set.  Silvertongue himself lounged there, now fully visible. 

He was quite unlike his bandmates in that he didn’t sport the same mass of hair.  His was long, pitch black and worn straight over his shoulders.  He wore leather pants and boots and nothing else, leaving his torso on full display.  He wasn’t as bulky as Fandral was, but his leanly muscular build spoke of strength and power.  He was sort of like a panther, just sitting in wait of his prey (her?). 

His head lolled to one side, facing her, and with a single finger, he beckoned.

“Please, take a seat.”

Jane hesitated by the door.  She could still get out if she was quick.  Surely he would just shrug it off and go look for some groupie to bother, someone ready and willing and here of their own free will.  What kept her from doing just that and got her walking to the couch and sitting down was a mystery to her.  Silvertongue’s lip twitched into something like a smile; whatever it was, it was gone in an instant.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

His question was not sudden or unexpected, but Jane’s mind was blank and his expectant eyes didn’t help at all.  She really had no idea how to answer him.  The truth was out of the question.  Who knows how he’d react if he knew how she really felt about the music his life revolved around.  Darcy thinking she was a crackpot and a bore was bad enough; she didn’t know anything about this guy.

“I- well…” This wasn’t good.  She’d always been a terrible liar.  “I… did.  I did.  Enjoy myself that is.”

Silvertongue nodded slowly, and then gave the first real smile Jane had seen from him.  It wasn’t a happy smile, more like the kind an axe murderer would wear as they were hacking up innocent victims.

“Did you really?” he asked.

Jane’s brow furrowed.  What was with that tone?  Was he challenging her?

“Yes, really,” she said.

“And what is your favorite song?”

“Love Cannon, definitely,” she said firmly.

Darcy had had Midgard Serpent’s album blasting from the stereo all week in preparation for tonight.  Every note and lyric Jane had never wanted to learn was forcibly stuffed into her brain, taking up space that could have been left for something useful, and still Love Cannon was the only song she remembered clearly.  The entire chorus was just that one sleazy phrase screamed over and over again with increasing volume, so that was probably why.

“Your favorite song is Love Cannon,” he said.

“That’s right,” Jane said, feeling a bit more at ease and like she had a handle on the situation.  “I thought you were brilliant on that song.”

“I hate that song.”

Then again, maybe she didn’t.

“Oh,” she said weakly.  “I’m just… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

He got to his feet and starting walking around the room.  His finger ran along the necks of his many guitars, brushing the strings gently, just to feel them on his skin. They don’t make a sound when he does it.  Even with the attention off her, Jane felt like she was being scrutinized. It really wasn’t fair that anyone could have that kind of presence.

“So uh… what’s your favorite song?”  Jane asked.  _Why_ she asked, she didn’t know.  If the next words out of her mouth weren’t, ‘thank you but I must be going now,’ she would have to assume that the fumes were addling her mind.  She _knew_ those girls in the bathroom before were smoking pot, and Darcy said it was just her imagination.

“Of my own work, I take it,” he said.  It wasn’t a question or directed at her, just his thoughts given voice.  At least, that’s what Jane had to assume when he didn’t pause speaking.  “I suppose my favorite would be Street Talk.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Jane said with the biggest, fakest-yet-still-real-looking grin she could muster.  “You’re really good on that one too.”

He answered with yet another ‘axe murderer’ smile. 

“We don’t have a song called Street Talk.”

Jane’s face fell like a brick, and Silvertongue laughed with abandon at her reddening cheeks and forming scowl.

“Are you playing games with me?”

 “I merely want honesty,” he said, crossing his arms.  “You did not enjoy the show.  I’d even wager that you’re not a fan of the band at all.”

Jane wanted to say something, but there was no point in arguing the truth with lies. 

“So tell me what brought you here, if not a love for our music?”

Jane chewed on her bottom lip.

“My friend, Darcy, is a fan,” she explained.  “She made me come along.”

“I take it she’s with Fandral now.”

“How’d you know?”

“I know his type.”

Silvertongue stretched his arms out, long and toned and as hard to ignore as the rest of him.  Jane countered by staring pointedly at a blank portion of the wall, but he was still there in the corner of her vision, bare chested with tattoos littering his skin in all different places.

“So you dragged me back here because I’m not enough of a screaming fan,” she said matter-of-factly.  “You want to try recruiting me into the club now, huh?  Well, I’m not interested.”

 _‘In any way,’_ she added with her eyes.  He was smart enough to catch the meaning, that he had proved tonight beyond anything else, except maybe for the fact that he was also cocky as all hell.  Why else would he single her out like this?

“I know you aren’t,” he said, sounding far too satisfied with himself; like he knew he’d just defied her expectations of him.  “I saw you during the show.  It was hard to take my eyes off of you.  You were the only one still in your seat by the time it was over.  You never cheered or applauded or opened your mouth for anything except to take a drink. It may seem arrogant of me to say, but I haven’t met a woman like you in the longest time.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “You’re telling me that I’m the first woman in the world who’s never thrown herself at you.”

“Not in the _whole_ world.”

 Jane shook her head, feeling like laughing even though nothing was funny.

“So what do you want from me then?”

“Not much,” he answered.  He rested his head in his hands, shocking green eyes taking in her form.  Jane felt for a moment mesmerized by them.  They had to be his best feature, shirtlessness notwithstanding. 

“How much is not much?” she asked.

He lowered his head, the whole of him and the room itself darkening.  It wasn’t a physical thing like the lights getting dimmer (they were dim enough as it was), but more on the metaphysical side.  It was like Silvertongue had a magical control over their surroundings, bending them to his will.  He leaned closer to her.  Something like an invisible set of hands kept Jane from backing up like she should have. He parted his lips and sinfully spoke two words in her ear.

“Your name.”

Jane blinked.  Then she blinked again.  In the time it took her to blink the second time, Silvertongue had returned to his first position, which compared to what he just did made him look sort of like someone on a job interview.

“My… name?”

“That’s what I said.”  He even sounded businesslike now.

Jane gawked, unable to work out what had just happened in a prompt fashion.  That he retained that smug satisfaction that she was coming to associate with was ever worse.  How many other women has he brought down here just to spin circles around their heads, she wondered.

“Why do you want my name?” she asked.

“Why not?”

Well, if that wasn’t the soundest logic she had ever heard.  Why not?  Because!  Because why?  Because because!  An endless loop it would be.  The only thing she could do now to get any sort of point across would be to get up and walk away like she should have done hours ago when Darcy was too busy screaming her throat raw to notice.

Which only made the fact that she was still seated all the more mind-boggling.

“Jane,” she said finally.  “Jane Foster.”

“Jane Foster,” Silvertongue repeated, in that slower softer voice from before.  That was about enough for Jane.  She regained control of her lower body and sprang up.

“Well, this has been fun, but I have homework to finish and class in the morning.  I’d better go.”

She walked to the door before he could stop her, not that he tried.  She didn’t turn back, but she imagined he was still sitting, probably not even watching her go.  Why would he when there were about thirty girls out there who would give him their names and everything else without question.

“It was nice meeting you, Silvertongue,” she said at the door.

Her hand was on the doorknob, twisting it from one side to the other.  Her nerves prevented her from finding the right way to turn it for some time, and then his shadow creeped over her, and she could feel him barely an inch away from her back.

 “Loki.”

She tried not to spin around too fast, lest she appear intimidated by him, which she definitely wasn’t, not one little bit.

“What?”

He leaned over her against the wall, and still she had to crane her neck up to meet his gaze. 

“My name is Loki,” he said again.  “I hate the name Silvertongue.”

Without warning, he was level with her, pressing warm, soft lips to her forehead.  It was really more of a brush than anything else.  It lasted a split second and then it was over, leaving her whole body numb except for that one tingling spot atop her head.

Loki pushed open the door for her; Jane shambled out into the light.

“Until we meet again,” he said.

When it closed again, Jane came back to herself. It felt like she’d been out of it forever.  The groupies had disappeared, leaving only Hogun and Sif smoking a cigarette and writing out sheet music respectively.  Maybe she really _had_ been in there forever.  Jane took a deep breath, bringing enough air into her lungs to nearly make them explode, but God did she ever need it.  Her mind and her stomach were a storm of emotion, most prevalently exhaustion.  She should’ve been in bed hours ago.  She needed to get Darcy, get out of this arena, go home, do some stargazing before bed and pretend this whole stupid night never happened.

First, she needed to find Darcy.  That was easier said than done.  Her fun loving roommate had vanished along with the groupies.  Whatever way Jane looked, not a trace of her neon green shirt or pink leggings could be found.  At a loss, Jane looked to Hogun, who twirled a drumstick in one hand and pointed at the closet door with the other.

“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”

**

A new day ideally meant eating a well-balanced breakfast and perusing a science textbook until it was time to leave for class.  In the real world, Jane spent the morning after the concert in the shower, trying to wash the smell of old socks and dirt off her skin.  Why the hell didn’t they clean those arenas more thoroughly?  Did they _want_ to give people diseases?

She was clean by the time Darcy finally rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, something Jane had hoped to avoid. 

“Coooffeeeee,” Darcy moaned like a zombie.  She certainly looked the part with her naturally curly hair wild and out of sorts and last night’s make-up smudged across her cheeks.  All she needed now was some rotting flesh and to replace coffee with brains and she was good to go.

She stopped in front of the refrigerator, forgetting that people don’t typically store coffee in there.  Jane wordlessly filled a second cup with the steaming liquid she had only just made, letting the smell waft through the air and coax Darcy in the right direction.  While she waited, she took long gulps of her cup; just enough to finish it fast and not burn the back of her throat in the process.

“Rough night, huh?”

Darcy groaned incoherently.  Jane took that as a yes.

“Any regrets?”

With great difficulty, Darcy forced her eyes all the way open and focused as best she could on Jane.  She was veering ever so slightly to the right.

“Not a one, my friend.  Not.  A.  One.”

She put on the most disturbing attempt at a smile Jane had ever seen, the kind that made you want to put a bag over someone head and never let them take it off.  Luckily, Darcy was still too out of it to keep it up for long.  It was amazing that she hadn’t drank anything last night.

“Are you sure about that?” Jane asked, getting up to put her coffee cup in the sink for later.  “You’re kind of... well-“

She gestured up and down at Darcy, making her point clear in the way words were failing her. 

“Doesn’t matter, this is rock in roll!” Darcy threw up the metal ‘devil horns.’ “Ain’t nothing but a good time, you hear me?  I’m such a rock star right now.”

Jane looked at her flatly.  “You’re not a rock star, Darcy.  You just had sex with one.”

“Same difference.”

“There’s a very big difference.”

Jane would’ve liked to end it there.  Getting involved in this kind of argument with Darcy would only lead her to play more of that horrid music tonight as revenge.  She’d been waiting far too long for an end to that, and she wasn’t about to jeopardize her shot at freedom just because Darcy had delusions of grandeur.

“So, how’d it go last night with Silvertongue?”

Jane stopped dead in her tracks and scrunched her eyes shut.  She was in front of the coat rack, right next to the front door.  So close.  So damn close…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

Darcy sprayed her coffee everywhere as she laughed at Jane.

“Oh don’t even try that with me.  I know where you were last night.”

“I was with you,” Jane said sharply under her breath.  “I was going deaf in one ear and sitting around with half-drunk musicians and groupies while you got laid in a closet.”

Darcy grinned.  “And you haven’t even asked me yet if it was good or not.”

Jane cringed.  She was reminded of the first few months she and Darcy lived together, when Darcy was dating Saul, a hard drinking partier who spent far too many nights at their place (to the point where Jane often wondered if he even had a home of his own).  She knew for a fact that Darcy never slept when he was over, because she didn’t either.  After six abysmal months, Jane was pretty much done being curious about Darcy’s sex life.  The sound of a bed creaking still gave her flashbacks.

“Personally, that’s the kind of thing I’d keep to myself,” she said.

“Yeah, but that’s because you haven’t had a date in two years.  And for your information, it was a-freakin-mazing, and nothing else will ever compare.”

She squealed the final words, suddenly wide awake with the caffeine running through her system.  For her part, Jane didn’t see what made an essentially ‘all downhill from here’ sentiment something to cheer about, but why spoil her fun?

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said disinterestedly.  “And for the record, I’m not going to start announcing it whenever I do get a boyfriend, okay?”

“If it’s good you will,” was Darcy’s cheeky response.  “Just like me!  Last night, I had my mind blown by the lead singer of possibly the biggest band in the world right now.”

Jane bit back a sigh.  This was shaping up to be last night all over again.

“And you know, the funny thing is that Fandral wasn’t what I expected him to be,” Darcy went on thoughtfully.

“I thought it was ‘a-freakin-mazing,’” Jane said.

“Oh it was, I never said it wasn’t.  I guess I just thought, with his reputation and all, he’d be more of a hard dominating type, when really he was kind of a puppy.  I mean, once we got right down to it-“

“Okay, I think I got it,” Jane cried out.  She snatched up her bag and ran for the door.  It was a shame there was nothing blocking Darcy’s view of her except the staircase.

“Jane, I was more or less with a god last night, forgive me for being a little excited.”

Jane resisted smacking her head against the wall by walking back the way she came and grabbing some bottled water out of the fridge.  If that tightness around her temples was the headache she feared it was, she was going to need it.

“Darcy, Fandral is not a god, and neither are the rest of them.  They’re just a bunch of overhyped, oversexed, drugged out musicians who probably can’t even play their instruments correctly. In a couple of months, everyone will move on to a different fad and they’ll forget all about Midgard Serpent or whatever they’re called and frankly, I will be a very happy woman when that day comes.”

There was a long pause.  Jane opened the bottle to take a slip, and then-

“You fucked Silvertongue last night, didn’t you?”

She spat it all out.

While she choked on the little of it that got down her gullet, Darcy took care of the mess with a quick application of paper towels.  She patted Jane on the back when she was done.

“Okay, shake it off,” she said.  “And I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Don’t,” Jane gasped as strongly as she could.  “I did not sleep with him.  At all.  We barely even spoke.  He asked me some questions and then I left, that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Darcy repeated, scandalized.  “Oh come on, Jane.  Even if that was true, no one could possibly walk away from the opportunity to sleep with Silvertongue!”

“He didn’t _want_ to sleep with me, okay?” Jane hacked out the rest of the water, her chest was burning from the effort.

“So you guys didn’t do anything at all?  You didn’t even get to first base?”

Jane was about to say no, and then a wave of heat came over her, most of it directed to that same little spot on her head.  She shook it off before Darcy had a chance to ask questions.  She was off in her own world by now anyway.

“I mean, I’m a Fandral girl through and through.  I think I’ve made that clear,” she said, her eyebrows wiggling.  “But I’ll admit I’ve more than once thought about what else Silvertongue can do with those guitar playing hands of his.  Know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t, and now I’m going to class.”

Jane walked with solidly entrenched finality in her steps.  She would not hear another word of objection, nor would she let herself fall to the level of petty comebacks.  She should never have enabled any of this in the first place.  Now she was going to be late to class, and Professor Selvig was going to have a fit.

Jane waited before starting the car.  The clock was ticking, but she needed to catch her breath and forget about last night before she did any driving.  Damn that Darcy for reminding her.  Tonight, she was burning all of her records, for real this time.

Jane puts the key in the ignition and steps on the break.  The engine and the radio came to life.  Jane nearly jumped out of her seat when a hard riff assaulted her eardrums.  Joining in was Fandral, singing passionately about beautiful girls and how much he wanted them to feel his love cannon. 

The song was about to end, so Jane let it play out until the DJ came on, fast talking with the catchy leitmotif behind him.

“Hey what’s up listeners?  That was Love Cannon, the mega smash hit by Midgard Serpent.  Coming up in an hour we have an exclusive interview right here at W-RKG with- get this- Silvertongue.  That’s right my hard rocking friends, we have Silvertongue in the house, so stay tuned to this station.  Next up, we’ve got the latest single from Guns n’ Roses, this is Sweet Child O’ Mine on W-RKG.”

This new guitar melody was actually very nice, but Jane changed the channel and spent the rest of the drive to campus listening to some new broadcast about some mobster the police were chasing.  It was no more interesting to her than the last station, but at least it had no Silvertongue.  It was time to let that one go once and for all.

He’d probably forgotten all about her by now anyway.

**

Jane was not one for drinking, but Nick’s Tavern on 5th street was her favorite place to go on the weekend.  People were often surprised when she told them that, even Darcy.  Nick’s was a cozy little place tucked into the corner of a busy avenue.  A much bigger and more exciting bar and dance club existed up the street, so Nick’s was mostly frequented by a group of ten or twenty rowdy fans watching sports on the little TV nailed to the ceiling.  They could get loud when they wanted to, but they usually weren’t a bother, and the bartender always had some ethereal instrumental playing in his mini boombox behind the bar.  Now _that_ was good music.

Jane flipped to a new page in her spiral notebook.  The previous twelve pages were filled with notes and ideas for her thesis.  Professor Selvig had called her into a meeting after class yesterday to discuss it, and Jane had to admit with a great deal of shame that she’d basically gotten no work done thanks to that concert.  Professor Selvig had taken it well, he even offered her a small extension on her deadline, but Jane hadn’t taken it.  She was no charity case and she was going to prove it.

“Let me know if you need any help,” he told her at the end of their session.  “My door is always open for you, Jane.”

“I know, thank you Professor.”

It was nice of him to offer, but Jane always had to remind herself that it was because she was genuinely one of his best students and that he didn’t only favor her because he’d been friends with her father.  She hadn’t even known that when she first stepped into his class, so how could he?

Jane licked her lips and pulled her bottle of light beer closer to her.  It gave little resistance, mostly because it was empty.  Jane sighed and glanced around for the bartender, only to find him serving drinks to a pair of spectators arguing about the boxing match on TV.

“I’m telling you, Odinson is going to clock out in the next round, just look at him!   Broken nose, one eye swollen shut, he’s done!”

“Are you crazy?  He’s up against that little pussy bitch Vanko, and Odinson is built like a tank.  Vanko only got a few lucky hits in.  He’s gonna be out cold, just watch and see.”

Their fight continued in time with the one on TV.  In the next round, the large, muscular blond man got several good hits on the much smaller man’s face and presumably achieved that knock out the second man was talking about.  While the first man screamed and cursed and the second one gloated, the bartender returned to his post and snapped his fingers at Jane before she could signal to him.

“Another light beer, coming up.”

He pulled one out of the cooler and placed it in her cupped hands, he didn’t even stop when Jane tried to call him back and pay him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.  “You’re paid for the rest of the night, have as many as you like.”

“I am?” Jane asked incredulously.  “Who paid for me?”

The bartender nodded over her head.  Jane turned around and nearly fell out of her seat when she caught sight of Silvertongue, all the way at the corner table, a single whiskey bottle and shot glass his only company.  He smirked when he caught her eye, and lifted the full glass to her as a toast.


	2. Pour Some Sugar on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two is finally here! *headbangs*
> 
> So is Thor: The Dark World (overseas anyway) *headbangs even harder*
> 
> Oh, how very difficult it is to avoid spoilers...

Jane was beginning to think she should find some new friends.  Not that she wanted to leave Darcy in the dust or anything; she still loved that crazy girl to death, come hell or high water and all that.  She just needed some kind of excuse for why she couldn’t come along to Darcy’s favorite party spots during the weekends.  ‘I have homework’ was unacceptable unless Darcy did too, and she was always done in record time anyway (“You are looking at the first woman president!” she boasted one night after finishing an essay).

The music was marginally less loud than at the Midgard Serpent contest.  It fed through massive speakers cranked all the way up to top volume (someone had stuck a post-it note with the number eleven on the volume knob, and Jane had no idea what was so funny about it).  The singer was as screechy as Fandral, demanding that the listener ‘take a ride on the wild side.’  Frankly, Jane was too tired to be wild.  She had an exam on Friday and a project that counted for a third of her grade due in two weeks.  Her idea of a break had been a night in front of the TV and then a twelve hour nap that she’d been dreaming of since freshman year.  Not Darcy’s.

Once again, she needed more friends.

Jane nursed a familiar light beer; at least Darcy never forgot her drink of choice.  The last time Jane saw her, she was with a group of girls over by the speakers, her hair a flying mess from the force of her head banging.  Jane shook her head.  She could see hearing aids in her poor friend’s future.

“Hey, Jane!”

A tall young woman with straight dark brown hair past her shoulders ran over with her hands in the air.  She was an oddity in her conservative sweater and slacks, alongside all the girls in neon mini-skirts and denim crop tops.

“Betty!”  Jane hugged her old friend, marveling that she’d barely changed since they were undergrads.  They had quite the study buddies during those years.  Despite having different majors, they shared all the same pre-requisites and kept themselves at the top of the class by putting their heads together and cramming to hell and back.  Those days seemed like ages ago now, seeing her again.  When was the last time Jane even picked up the phone and called her?  And here she was complaining that she didn’t have enough friends.

“What are you doing here?” Betty asked.  “I didn’t think this was your kind of scene.  No offense.”

“None taken, my roommate dragged me along.  To be honest, I didn’t think this was your scene either.”

Betty face fell, and she sighed.  “I just needed to get away from my house for a while.  Unfortunately, this is the only place open this time of night.”

Betty rubbed at her forehead like she was soothing a headache.  Jane could understand.  One of Betty’s favorite topics of discussion was her crazy over-protective army Dad and how much he liked to control her life, all under the guise of ‘protecting her’.  Months of listening to her almost made Jane glad she didn’t have a father to act that way with her.

“Another big blow-up, huh?”

“You betcha,” Betty answered.  She had a regular beer on her and drained half of it in seconds, though the face she made right after made it clear she didn’t do this often.  “He’s still going on about how I’m wasting my life with someone who’s not good enough for me and how I’m so much better than that yadda yadda yadda.”

“So you and Bruce are still an item?”

“Oh we’re an item alright,” Betty said, her sad face making way for a wide grin as she held up her left hand.  “In fact, we’re planning on becoming a permanent one.”

Jane’s jaw dropped, and she had to blink a few times as the diamond ring sparkled blindingly under the strobe light.  “No way.  You’re getting married?”

“Yeah,” Betty laughed, her rage at her father for the moment forgotten, “but it won’t be until next year since we’re both so busy with school.  We’re thinking about an autumn wedding, sometime before Thanksgiving.  We still need to set an actual date, though- and of course you’ll be invited.”

“And of course I’ll be there,” Jane said eagerly.  “God, that’s so great, Betty.  I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Jane,” she pulled Jane into a quick hug, squishing their cheeks together in a way Jane remembers both fondly and painfully.  “Well, I’d better go find a phone and call Bruce.  No way in hell I’m going back home tonight.”

“Okay, see you later Betty.”

Betty squeezed her way through a trio of gyrating girls all pressed up to a man with a face slathered in make-up.  He looked even more clownish than the rockers he was trying to emulate.  Jane giggled into her hands so no one would see.  Looking at him again, it wasn’t quite as funny, but Jane still found herself laughing.  She must’ve picked up something stronger than a light beer by accident.

“Looks like someone is having a good time,” said Fandral.  He hopped over the couch to sit next to her, his mass of yellow hair getting in her face as he settled in one position.  “Feels like a real party tonight.”

“Nah, it’s just the alcohol,” Jane said.  She picked up the bottle and tossed it at the nearest garbage can.  She usually watched to see if she made the basket because she hated leaving garbage around for other people to clean up.  She didn’t have quite the leisure this time as she suddenly realized who she was talking to.

“Oh my god!”

Jane leapt from the couch.  In her haste, she forgot the existence of another arm rest and got her legs caught it in.  She did a half spin and landed on her face.  The wave of pain was accompanied by a now familiar ringing in her ears that could have just been party-goers laughing at her. 

Fandral sure was, even as he knelt beside her with his hand out.

“Happy to see me?"

Jane moved her head to the side, getting a long whiff of that bushy mass he called hair.  From the sharp taste in her mouth, roughly three cans of hairspray a day went into maintaining its height.  She allowed him to help her regardless.  Her legs were caught in a throw rug and she didn’t trust herself not to trip, otherwise she would’ve shaken him off.

“Pretty nasty fall you took,” Hogun said from the couch where he and Sif had taken hers and Betty’s seats.  The female bassist remained the quietest of the group, her nose buried in a book of sheet music.  The top three rows of the open page were scribbled out with black pen.  Sif had also used it to write some rather coarse language in the margins.

“Don’t mind Sif,” Fandral said.  “She’s not ignoring you on purpose.  She’s just working on some new bass lines.”

“She basically dedicates all her free time to it,” said Hogun.

“That’s very nice,” Jane said sweetly as some very un-sweet emotions bubbled under the surface.  “Now, would you guys mind telling me what you are doing here?”

Another question Jane has is what they are doing working around like they’re average people rather than the members of one of the country’s most famous bands (for better or worse) and someone could recognize them at any moment, but she’ll save that one for later. 

“Well duh, it’s a party.  We like parties,” Fandral said.  Something about him saying ‘duh’ like that made Jane want to burst out laughing.

“I understand that, but that doesn’t explain why you’d choose this place.  It’s not exactly fancy or well-known.”

Or is it?  Jane had a sudden realization that she had no idea the history of this bar that Darcy dragged her to.  This could be a major hang out for rockstars and metalheads and she wouldn’t have a clue.  She focused on two guys downing shots at the bar.  They were nobody to her, but for all she knew, they could be more famous than Midgard Serpent was.

“It’s important us,” Fandral said, neither confirming nor denying her fears.

 “We did our first show here back in ‘83,” said Sif.  She then cursed aloud and blotted out half the line she’d spent the last five minutes painstakingly writing out. 

“We were so young and innocent in those days,” Fandral said nostalgically, though Jane had a hard time reconciling the idea of them being innocent.  “We performed right in this very spot- there was a stage here before they renovated- I remember this one guy wouldn’t stop heckling us for the entire set.  Then on the last song, he tried to pull Silvertongue off the stage and pick a fight with him, so Silvertongue kicked him in the face.”

“Dumb fuck went down like a randy hooker,” snorted Hogun.  Sif just rolled her eyes at the both of them.

Jane nodded along with the story, mostly just glad that she’d apparently been wrong about this place and that these guys were just incredibly sentimental.  That just left the final piece of the puzzle: why bother with her?  Jane had a sinking suspicion she already knew, and nothing could have proved her right like the cool voice just above her head.

“I really wish you wouldn’t tell her that story, Fandral.”

Jane bit her lip, preparing to face the inevitable in the form of a six foot tall guitarist who was the reason she couldn’t go to her regular bar anymore.

He was wearing a shirt today.  That was a nice change (no matter what the dirty side of her mind said).  He wore a tight white button down shirt over leather pants and his hair back in a ponytail.  Sunglasses covered his eyes, yet somehow their green depths were as clear and hypnotic.  Either his gaze was really that potent or the alcohol really was getting to her.  He was very much in her personal space, not that he cared. It gave Jane a perfect view of how the buttons on his shirt strained against his chest and showed off his toned stomach. 

On second thought, it was definitely the alcohol.

Someone was laughing behind her, probably Fandral.  She was too distracted to think about checking.

“Sorry, Silvertongue,” he said.  “Not trying to embarrass you in front of your girl.”

Silvertongue’s eyes flicked to him over Jane’s shoulder, and then even further up to a place she couldn’t determine. 

“I see your own lovely lady from the concert is here as well.”

Darcy was currently on the pool table with a few other girls, moving her hips from side to side like a sultry cage dancer.  The men in the crowd were more than appreciative, but Jane didn’t think any of them could match Fandral.  He was grinning ear to ear at the sight of her.

“Be right back!” he shouted at them before disappearing into the crowd.

Silvertongue stepped around her to rest one leg on the empty seat cushion.  Hogun moved over to give him room, downing a Jack Daniels and tapping out a complicated looking drumbeat on the glass while Silvertongue busied himself watching Sif.

“That looks complicated,” Loki said.  Taking a peek herself, Jane could see that the entire page was scribbled out now.  “It might be beyond your skill level, sister.”

 “Most of us don’t come up with a powerful rift at the drop of a hat,” she said with warning in her tone.  “You should know that better than I do.  How is _your_ new song coming, by the way?”

Silvertongue smirked, not taking the bait, not that Sif looks too bothered by it.  “Sometimes I think you are more suited to my stage name, Sif.  Your tongue is sharp as a blade.”

“But no one is as practiced at wordplay as you, brother.”  She smiled serenely at him, and to Jane’s surprise, Silvertongue returned it.  He leaned in more to whisper in her ear, giving Jane the impression that she was intruding on something private.

She would’ve left- she felt too awkward to excuse herself properly, but then Silvertongue’s hand rested on top of hers. 

“Shall we take a walk?” he asked.

Jane didn’t know how to say no, desperately as she wanted to.  His overwhelming presence made it impossible to form any coherent thoughts that pertained to not giving him what he wanted.  What came out of her mouth instead was something Jane would not remember a few minutes later when the two of them were on the outer lines of the drunk and head banging partiers.  And the strangest part of it all _wasn’t_ that no one ever screamed ‘hey look, it’s Silvertongue’ and swarmed them.  Jane stopped waiting for that to happen around the same time he started asking her how her day went.

“What does the great Silvertongue care?” she asked dryly.

“Well that should be obvious,” he said. “You’re here against your will like at the concert, aren’t you?”

She didn’t feel right answering that, clear as the answer was to the both of them.  It felt like an insult to Darcy, though she doubted her friend would care one lick.  Last Jane checked, she was the corner with Fandral enthusiastically shoving her tongue down his throat.  So that, at least, Fandral would do in public.

Well, no use denying it now.  She didn’t have to anyway because as soon as she came to that decision, Silvertongue nodded.

“It just so happens I’m not too fond of this place either,” he said.  “Not beyond appreciation for what we accomplished here.  And I thought I asked you to call me Loki.”

They stopped  in front of a wall covered in photographs, and Loki’s eyes lingered on one near the center.  Even with her laughable level of Midgard Serpent-savvy, Jane would know his face anywhere.  The Silvertongue in the picture was younger and skinner than the one beside her.  The rest of the band surrounded him, each with a distinct look that had evolved into what they were today.  Fandral’s hair was much shorter, Hogun’s as well.  Sif was nowhere to be found and in her place was an extremely hairy man screaming at the camera.  From the looks of him, he was at least ten years older than his peers.  The guitar he held aloft was of a different make than Sif’s; boxy where hers was lean. 

“That’s Monty,” Loki explained with evident distaste. “He was our bassist when we first started out.”

Jane glanced at the photo again.  “He looks… exuberant.”

Loki guffawed, loudly in a way Jane wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“A raging narcissist is more like it.”  Loki stepped on top of the booth table and ripped the picture from the wall like it was his to take.

Jane made a noise of protest, but couldn’t decide which ‘don’t do that you’ll get in trouble’ stock phrase worked best on crazy rockstars.  The obvious answer was none.

“He thought he was going to be the face of the group because he was the only one of us who’d been in a band. Of course, we all knew he’d been kicked out of that band for being uncooperative, so I don’t know who he thought he was kidding.”

“How’d he get kicked out of your band?”

“He quit actually,” Loki said casually.  “He tried to break a beer bottle over my head because I asked him to tone down his playing a bit in the bridge of our opening number.”

“And _then_ he quit?”

“No, then I broke his wrist and sent an anonymous call to the IRS about his overdue tax returns.  _Then_ he quit.”

Following a few stunned seconds of absolute silence, the stone-faced Loki broke out a smile that, quite honestly, made her heart skip a beat.  It also released some of the tension building in her stomach, and she was something like relaxed when he dropped the smile and went back to an uber-serious face that clearly said, ‘if you laugh I am judging you.’

This was not person good for Jane’s emotional state.

 _‘He’s just trying to mess with you,’_ she told herself.  _‘Don’t fall for it._

“After he left, I convinced Fandral to audition Sif.  It took some effort as he wasn’t sure about letting a woman in.”  Loki deposited the photo into an empty dish bin that was within arm’s length.  “But her first performance with us was at one of the most violent bars in the state of California. Sif walked away without a scratch on her, with ten unconscious perverts in her wake.  She played fantastically as well.  Fandral was _begging_ her to join by the time it was over.”

Jane grinned, unable to help herself.  She could just see Fandral with his pom-pom hair clinging to Sif’s fishnet covered leg and offering her his very life if she would be in his band.

“Must be fun being in a band with your sister,” she said.

“Sister-in-law,” Loki corrected her while he read the drink menu and scoffed at the limited selection.  “Sif is my brother’s wife.”

“Oh, okay.  Gotcha…”

Loki set down the menu and walked around the bar.  The bartender was nowhere to be found, but Jane kept looking for him anyway while Loki scanned the rows of liquor, mumbling to himself and choosing bottles at random.  He lined them up neatly in a row, finishing off with seven of them.

“What are you doing?”

Loki gave her a knowing look.  “I think it’s abundantly clear what I am doing.  There’s not one drink to my liking on this menu, and so I must take matters into my own hands.”

He pulled a mixing bottle out from a bottom cabinet like he always knew that’s where it would be. 

“What if you get caught?”

“The bartender won’t mind, he’s an old friend.”

Translation: he was another crazy fan who would let Loki strip him naked and spread tar over his ass if he wanted to.

Loki mixed a few drops of each type of liquor.  Jane read the names off the bottles, but they were either unpronounceable or in some other language.  The one she did know was a brand of absinthe.  Loki used that one the most.

The result of it all was a clear, purple tinted drink that smelled vaguely of peaches.  Loki tipped it into a tall, triangle shaped glass and from there it went down his throat; half the glass at once in fact.  Loki grimaced, shaking off the effects and putting the remaining mixture aside for later.

“Care for a glass?”

“Ah, no, I’d better not,” Jane said, pretending to look down at her untied shoelaces so he wouldn’t see her face getting hot. 

Loki hummed, the sound vibrating in her ears.  She heard the clinking of glass as he put everything back in its proper place and watched the tiny bubbles in his glass float to the surface.  After a while, he drank the rest and slammed the empty glass down roughly.

“I think that’s enough,” he said to himself.

The glass went into the bin with Monty’s picture.  He held out an arm to Jane, which she didn’t take.  Not only could she walk on her own just fine, but now he smelled heavily like alcohol and she wished he would just go bother some groupie who would have been happy to cling to him.

“Have you ever had anything stronger than a light beer?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “I’m not a big drinker, I guess.”

“So then it’s mostly for the atmosphere that you frequent the corner bar.  I can understand that, it’s a quaint location.  I’ve set up a permanent tab for you, by the way.  You’ll never have to pay for another drink.”

“You’re too kind…”

From there, he led her right out of the club. It would have made Jane much happier if she’d been going alone, but at least she was out of that bar.  Fresh air had never felt so good.  It was warm for October, so she wouldn’t bother going back for her jacket just yet.  The moon was full and high in the sky, the stars hidden by city lights.  Jane always felt a little down looking at that deep blue blanket of nothingness when infinite possibilities lay behind it.  For now, she could only ever see them in textbooks.  As soon as she graduated, she was moving to an observatory somewhere cold and quiet like Alaska or Norway.  It would be just her and the stars, and maybe a nice guy if she could find one.  A doctor or something.

“You like the stars,” Loki said.

“Yeah...” was her dreamy response.  She immediately caught herself, but he was already getting ready to laugh at her.  “Err- yes, I do.  I’m studying to be an Astrophysicist.”

“Mm,” he said approvingly.  He lifted his head to the sky, for no other reason than to end the conversation.  He wouldn’t be the first; most people outside of her classes were pretty apathetic to her field.  Not that Jane could really fault anyone for that.  Physics were pretty heavy-handed, especially to someone who might not have even gone to college. 

“This might seem a silly question,” he said, “but have you read Galileo’s Dialogo?”

Her eyes, heavily lidded from the warm air and gentle humming of the crickets, snapped open. He was watching her now, closed mouth and contemplative, like he hadn’t spoken a word and she was just hearing things.

“Uh… yeah, in my first year,” she answered.  “I took some mandatory astronomy classes and it was required reading.”

“So you own a copy.”

“I did for a while, but it got lost when I moved,” she admitted sheepishly.  “Unfortunately money is a little hard to come by when you’re a grad student.  I haven’t been able to find another.  Why do you ask?”

 _‘Please don’t go out and get me one,’_ she mentally pleaded with him.  It was a laughable idea that a famous rockstar with more money than God would bother spending even a few bucks on someone he barely knew, but then there _was_ that bar tab.

“Just curious,” he said.

Jane nodded, though she wasn’t so eager to let the conversation die there.

“Have you read it?” she asked.

“I skimmed mostly.”

Ah, that made sense.  That alone was pretty good for a casual reader.   Darcy hadn’t even known Galileo wrote books until Jane started bringing them home from the library.

“I’m more partial to Kepler’s work.”

He met her gobsmacked expression with one of indifference, and then in the most baffling course of action he’d taken all night, Loki went back into the bar without so much as a ‘goodnight.’

**

Two days later, a package arrived in the mail.  It was a plain, square box with all the regular postage stamps of something shipped locally.  The return address read L. Odinson, Jane had never heard of him.  Inside was a book wrapped up in a silky, see-through paper with an envelope taped to the center.  Jane caught a large capital G in the left corner and her heart stopped.  She pulled out the envelope first, her first name was written in the same long, loopy letters as the card inside.

_‘I had this laying around my house.  I think it’ll do you more good than it does me.  Look to the stars._

_Loki.’_

‘Look to the stars’ was only the weirdest part from an objective standpoint.  Altogether, Jane was pinching herself bloody trying to wake up already from this crazy dream.  Taking the book out of the box revealed another hidden treasure beneath the flaps.  A record boasting the very phrase that had thrown her for a loop fell into her hands.  Jane shut all the windows and made sure Darcy wasn’t home yet first before, against her better judgment, playing the record.  The song was short and had a real spacy feeling to it.  If Jane were to describe it with her very out of date knowledge of music, she’d say it reminded her of something A Flock of Seagulls might’ve put on their first album, only with deafening metal riffs and shrieking lyrics.  The guitar solo was okay, though.

Darcy was back within the hour, before Jane had gotten around to putting everything away.  Of course she asked questions and of course Jane was not far enough removed from shock to make something up. 

“Holy shit, dude,” Darcy gasped when Jane finished the whole story.  “He sent you a book _and_ a copy of their next single?  Okay, you definitely have to fuck him now.”

Jane remembered a time when she thought Darcy was a good authority for advice on love.  That was before they moved in together.  What bygone days they were indeed.

“I’m not going to jump into bed with someone just because they gave me a gift I didn’t ask for.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of a gift?” Darcy asked.  She started the record back to the beginning and put it at full volume, playing air guitar in time with the music while Jane was forced to seek refuge between the decorative couch pillows.

“I’m still not sleeping with him!” she shouted over the noise.  “And how did he even know our address?”

“I don’t know, from Fandral I guess.”

“You gave Fandral our address?”

“He had something of mine,” Darcy explained, intentionally vague and leaving Jane to wonder.  “So, they’ve got another show coming up in a week before they leave for New York.  I have a very reliable source that can get us in for nothing.  Ready to see your lover boy again?”

“For the last time, I WILL NOT SLEEP WITH HIM!” Jane screamed.  “ _God_ , why won’t you just drop it already?”

“What do you mean why?”  It was hard to hear Darcy correctly because she’d switched to headbanging for the chorus and it made her speech sound like it was coming through a fan.  “Do you want me to make a list?”

“No!”

“Number one!” Darcy began with one defiant hand in the air.  “He’s sexy.  Like ridiculously so. Number two: he’s one of the most famous guitarists in the world right now.  Do I have to remind you about his hands?”

“No, you really don’t.”  Jane pushed the pillow harder into her ear until she was sure it would crush her eardrum flat.

“Number three: He’s sexy!  Number four: he is totally into you, I mean really.  First the bar tab, now this?  Next he’s going to be showing up on the doorstep with an engagement ring, and I will not allow you to turn it down.  Number five-“

“Let me guess,” Jane interrupted.  “He’s sexy, right?”

“I was going to say he’s got great hair and a killer bod, but yeah, that’s good too!”

The song came to a close, fading out on the final few notes and drum beats.  That alone was music to Jane poor, abused ears.  She slid the pillow off her head, only to snatch it right back when the opening riff blasted out of nowhere.

“FUCK YEAH!” Darcy bellowed.  “ONE MORE TIME!”

“Why me?  Why _meee_?”

**

Monday morning marked the start midterm week.  Jane and Darcy went in with a bang, literally.  Darcy walked into the kitchen that morning with bags under her eyes and slammed a textbook thicker than Jane’s fist on the table in front of her.

“The rise and effects of Reagonomics,” Darcy said as she opened the book to a page way in the back and poked at it furiously.  “I’m behind.  Quiz me.  Go.”

It was an effective way of approaching things, as Jane quickly discovered.  Immersing herself in her studies was like returning to dry land after days wading through an ocean.  It was back to reality.  No more concerts or rockstars stalking her.  Midgard Serpent was all the way across the country, never to be heard of again (at least not until next week).  Even Darcy was more in the zone than Jane had ever seen her.  Not that her grades weren’t great as they were, but Darcy was nothing if not a perfectionist.  She even willingly missed out on Midgard Serpent’s last show for more study time with only a minimal amount of moping. 

By Thursday, Jane felt like her old self again.  She read the Dialogo without a care for the person who had given it to her.  She filled an entire notebook with notes and aced every practice test she took.  Professer Selvig couldn’t have been more pleased when he handed back her latest homework assignment.

“Keep it up, Jane,” he told her out the corner of his mouth.

Jane was beaming all the way through the exam and skipped home when it was over.

“Good afternoon, everybody!” she shouted upon walking through the door, even though Darcy was the only person around.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she muttered, doodling circles in her history notebook.

“You’ll see exactly why once my test scores come back,” Jane said.

She danced along, putting her coat in the closet and her backpack on the coffee table.  She flopped down on the couch with the remote control.  Another year and a half of grad school to go, but for now she deserved some time to slack off.  Just a little bit of time- two hours at most- but time nonetheless.

Her favorite new movie was on, a silly yet fun Jim Henson film with David Bowie as the Goblin King who lorded over the Labyrinth.  For one delightful hour, Jane watched him battle Jennifer Connolly over the life of her brother until Darcy ambled into the room and dropped on top of her.  She’d done it before, but it never got less annoying.  Jane wouldn’t tell Darcy this on pain of death, but she was a lot heavier than she looked.  Darcy clung to Jane’s legs and pressed her face into the skin.

“I’m _bored_ ,” she whined.  “Jane, you need to stop watching David Bowie stalk teenage girls and wave his balls in people’s faces right now and entertain me!”

“I’m busy.”  Jane kicked her leg out again, just to have made the effort to remove, futile as it was.  “Don’t you have another test tomorrow?”

“It was postponed ‘til next _week_.”

“So go hang out with your friends!”

“They’re all _studying_.  You’re the only one around.”

She held her like a boa constrictor held its helpless dinner.  Jane was pretty sure the circulation in her legs had been cut off.  At the very least, there would be some handprints.

“Jane,” she cried.

“What?”

“Why did we miss the concert?  I wanted to see Fandral again…”

Jane sighed heavily, covering her face with one hand so Darcy wouldn’t see have another reason to keep her trapped. 

“Darcy, you really shouldn’t put so much weight into one-night stands.”

“It wasn’t a one-night stand,” Darcy said.  “We met a second time, so there.”

“Two-night stand then, whatever you want to call it.”

Jane’s agitation came to a head when someone knocked on the door.  Actually, on further speculation the knocking was really a forceful pounding, like someone had given up all sense of civility and taken a mallet to the door.

“It’s probably Jon,” Darcy said, referring to one of her long-haired party friends who for some reason always smelled like a gasoline and was over with a bunch of Darcy’s other friends once a week to listen to new music on the stereo.  “I borrowed his Shout at the Devil LP.  He keeps wanting it back.”

She reluctantly slumped to the floor face down.  Jane sat up before Darcy could change her mind and ran to the door.  Be it Jon or anyone else, their visitor was not a patient person.  They nearly punched the door in half by the time Jane got to it.

“Hi, can I help y-“

Jane’s jaw hit the ground as green eyes stared down at her.  Loki was shirtless again, an unzipped leather jacket his only source of modesty.  A long, sleek limousine stretched out in their driveway.  That it fit at all and didn’t have the trunk hanging out in the street was unexplainable.  Even more shocking than his presence was the fact that for once, Loki was looking through her, and indeed didn’t seem to realize it was she who had opened the door at all.

“You,” he pointed at the dumbfounded Darcy.  “Get over here _now_.”

Darcy swayed slightly getting up.  She kept her balance but took too long to get it right for Loki’s satisfaction.

“Move!” he shouted.

Jane had just about had it that and shoved at him, trying and failing to ignore how rock hard his abs were. 

“What is your problem?” she shouted.

Loki barely felt her touch, walking right around her and taking Darcy by the wrist.  He dragged her all the way to that limousine where he threw open the back door and Jane could just see Fandral inside, as startled by Loki’s behavior as the rest of them.  Jane leaped off the porch and onto the lawn just as Loki threw Darcy inside.

“Get in there!”

He slammed the door on her, stalking to the driver side’s open window where he whispered something in the man’s ear and then left him to start the engine.  Down the street, the neighbors paused their daily activities to watch and wonder what some rich person was doing in their second class community.  Within seconds, it was out of sight, taking Darcy to parts unknown with only the drug addled rock singer she’d slept with twice for company, and Jane was pretty sure she was back in dreamland now because there was no way that just happened.

When she was ready to righteously turn her venomous rage on the one who deserved most to feel it, she was brought to a halt by how truly and deeply _relieved_ Loki looked, right down to the relaxing of his posture and the beads of sweat on his brow.  It was only a temporary distraction, though.  Jane was right back to preparing to smack him in seconds.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes flicked to hers.

“Good afternoon to you too, Jane,” he said with a smile.  “Did you enjoy the book?”

“Wha- stop acting like nothing is wrong when you just kidnapped my roommate!”

“I’ve done no such thing,” he said, affronted.  “I’ll have you know that Hogun, Sif and I have spent the last week and a half watching Fandral mope around after every show, pining over that friend of yours.  I for one am tired of it, and so I took matters into my own hands.”

“By _kidnapping_ her!  And what do you mean he’s been _pining_ for her?  He must have been with a thousand women since they last met!”

“Oh he has- has to fill the void somehow you know- but Darcy is _special_ apparently.” He looked no more convinced of that than Jane was, but to his credit, he didn’t make quotation marks over ‘special,’ like a little kid.  “All I know is that I won’t listen to him cry into his beer one more day.  You’ll have Darcy back once they are through with their date.  Knowing Fandral that could be any time tomorrow afternoon.”

“But you can’t just show up at people houses and force them into cars without their permission.” Jane walked around him, wanting badly to push him away from her but getting a strong feeling that nothing she did would affect him.  “You know what they call that?  Kidnapping!”

Loki ignored her, and that by far was the most infuriatingly thing he’d done aside from kidnapping Darcy.  Even worse was the way he waved off her anger and then sat on the hood of her car like his touching it meant that it was now his property.  She wouldn’t be surprised if he really thought so.

“Now that we have that business out of the way, I’d fancy myself a drink.”  He smiled hopefully at her in a way that definitely did not make her heart skip a beat or her resolve waver.  Not one little bit.  “You look like you could use one yourself.”

“The last thing I want to do right now is get a drink with you!”

**

“One light beer, coming up!”

“Thank you,” Jane said far too softly for him to hear.  Loki did and was sure to shout his drink order as loud as he could like he was showing her how it was done or something.

“You’re such an ass,” she said in the same whispered voice.  He chuckled, also so only she could hear.

The bartender slid her beer bottle along the slick bar into her hand.  She’d never understand how people did that, not even when she did care to think about it.  She snatched the bottle opener out of Loki’s hands.  Let him wait to open his.  He deserved any minor inconvenience she could create for him.  She might as well drink every light beer in this bar just so he was stuck with the massive bill.

Now that Jane thought about it- as the last drop of alcohol went down her throat and her mind began to disconnect from her common sense- that wasn’t a bad idea.


	3. Dr. Feelgood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three down, three to go.
> 
> Oh, and THOR 2!!! :D :D *headbangs until head explodes*

The next time Jane was aware of herself, a huge boulder had dropped from the sky and landed on her head.  The mystery of how she could still be alive and breathing after that was solved when Jane felt the air around her and realized that there was no boulder, her body was just five times heavier than it was supposed to be.  That weight on her head was really pain so excruciating that she could barely register it as such.  The rest of her came back in pieces; she felt her arms before her legs.  She didn’t dare get up, but it was a start.

She got a feel for her surroundings; this was definitely not the place she remembered being last.  It was dark and musty here, kind of like being backstage after that concert, only without the florescent light in her face.  The mere thought of light made her temples throb.  If only she had the strength to massage them.  There were voices coming from behind a closed door that sounded like they were right in her ear.  She didn’t know any of them, but a fast and upbeat melody struck her as familiar.  It was probably just more of Darcy’s music.

Jane cracked one eye open.  The room was pitch black, its sole window covered by a sweater, making the light nothing more than a patch of white.  It still hurt to look directly at it, so Jane rolled her head to the side where there was nothing but beautiful darkness and the barely there silhouette of a man on the couch.  She was too consumed by the pain to see more than a bit of his head.  Or maybe that was his shoulder.  He moved from side to side like he was working out some kinks.  His long legs slid out from under him and rested on the floor. 

“Finally awake, I see.”

He sounded British.  Really British.  Familiar too.

Jane’s moment of blissful ignorance came to an end when Loki kneeled before her and pressed a hand to her cheek.  They were large and warm and he could’ve covered her whole face if he wanted to.  The fingertips were calloused from guitar playing and yet still had some softness.

Jane moaned and swiped his hand away.  He complied, only to go for her hair a moment later.

“Get off,” Jane said hoarsely.  “This is sexual harassment.”

He snorted.  “I’m just getting some gunk out, or would you prefer to cut it all off later?”

He jerked his fingers through a stubborn knot, but the stinging Jane expected didn’t come.  His hand holding the roots moved to press into her scalp, gently rubbing the most painful areas.  It didn’t do much good, but it was the thought that counted.

“What happened?” Jane forced out.  Talking had become exhausting and she might just go back to sleep for a while.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

There was playfulness in his tone that Jane might’ve found a little endearing in a better state of mind.  Here it just raised her pain level as she went against her body’s desire for total immobility and sat up.  Vertigo hit her like a brick to the face.  Her stomach churned, but the burning sensations in her mouth and the horrible taste that accompanied it made her think that retching wasn’t going to do her much good.  It was only thanks to Loki holding her upright that she didn’t keel over. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“What happened?” Jane just about shouted it this time, even though she felt like someone had shoved a bag of cotton balls down her throat.

He gave her a very serious look.

“Lie down first.”

Jane defied his orders for as long as her body would allow it: about three seconds.  He was ready to help her lie back down when she started to slump, but at least he didn’t rub it in.

“Now that you’re nice and relaxed,” he began.  From up close, Jane could see that he’d shed his leather jacket, and now that she thought about it, whatever she was resting her head on didn’t feel much like a pillow.  “Let me first tell you that the pain you’re experiencing is the result of a hangover.”

Jane scoffed.  “Yeah, I figured.”

“But you should know how it happened,” he said.  “I can’t say why, but after your second light beer, you decided to graduate to the stronger stuff.  By the time I cut you off, you’d had three regular beers.”

“Only three?” Jane asked morosely.

“I wondered about that myself,” he said.

Jane would’ve loved to glare at him or flip him off, but all those things required effort and she had none to give at the moment.

“So then what?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“Then nothing,” he replied, much to her surprise.  “You wandered around in a drunken haze until you became too sick to stand, and then I carried you into the backroom to wait out the night.”

“I’ve been asleep since yesterday?”

The light from the window took on a whole new meaning, and a new level of brightness that did not coincide with the sky last she remembered it.  Just how many hours had it been since then?  Had he seriously sat with her all that time just waiting for her to wake up?  It couldn’t be.

Looks like Jane had succeeded in burning a few extra bucks from his wallet, but at what cost?

“It’s seven in the morning in case you were wondering,” he said.

Jane’s head dropped into her hands.  The ache was beginning to dull, but only just.  She pushed at her skull, relieving the pain for a couple of seconds before it came right back.  She felt him move away from her.

“I’ll get you an icepack,” he said.

He opened the door a crack.  Light streamed forth and Jane shied away.  He opened it just enough to fit his slender body through, the damning light never reaching her.  He returned with a bag of ice in one hand and a water bottle in the other.  Jane gratefully took the former and wearily eyed the latter.

“It’s just water,” he said.  “Drink it.  Getting dehydrated isn’t going to help you.”

Jane shook her head.  “I don’t think I could keep anything down.”

“Take small sips then.”

Reluctantly, Jane did as she was told.  The first few times, she almost spat it back out, but through sheer force of will and a staunch refusal to vomit in front of him (assuming it wasn’t too late for that), it went down into her stomach and stayed put. 

“That’s it,” he murmured.

It was an exercise in patience for Jane.  She was supposed to be up and either in class or working on her next project by this time.  Sitting around in excruciating pain and having plain spring water spooned into her mouth by the asshole who drove her to this didn’t fit anywhere on that list.  What the hell had she been thinking last night?  Even Darcy had more self-control at the bar.

“Where is she?” Jane demanded as the entire reason for her childish rage last night re-entered her mind with a bang.

Loki tipped the bottle into her mouth once more before answering.  “I take it you mean your friend, in which case rest assured, she made it home safely last night.”

Jane didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more suspicious.

“To my understanding she and Fandral were very happy to have the house to themselves.  I was sure to inform Darcy that you were safe in my hands.”

Oh really?  Safe in his hands?  There was only thing worse than that statement being spoken by Loki in regards to her: knowing exactly how Darcy would take it.  Jane could see her now, wiggling her eyebrows, gyrating her hips, asking just how well Loki ‘took care of her’ last night and when the next ‘performance’ would be.  And Jane will have to insist multiple times that it wasn’t like that, all while nursing an eternal headache, and Darcy wouldn’t believe a word of it (or if she did she’d persist anyway because she loved to stir the pot) and thus would begin a never-ending cycle of pain.  If only she could pin it all on Loki and be done with it.

He left her alone several more times over the course of an hour to refresh her ice pack.  Eventually, Jane felt well enough to stand without fear of the room turning on its head.  She took baby steps to the door just as Loki opened it.  He crossed his arms over his chest- such a nice chest too- and tapped his foot.

“What are we doing out of bed?”

Jane looked over her shoulder at the reinforced refrigerator box he called a bed. 

“I’m feeling better,” she said as firmly as possible.  “I’d like to go home.”

“You’d do better waiting for the sun to go down a little,” he said.  “That or invest in some sunglasses.”

“Don’t you have any?”

“Only one pair,” Loki slid them out of his pocket.  They were frameless with green and gold temples; very nice even from an objective standpoint.  “These, however, are mine.  I would give you any other pair to keep, but only I get to wear these.”

He tucked them neatly back into their case as she watched.

“What’s that, a superstition of yours?”

He smiled cryptically.  “Something like that.”

He matted down the bulging pocket, drawing attention that Jane would rather not have paid to his hands.

_“What is that?”_

She snatched up Loki’s hand, not giving him the chance to dodge her question. Bright purple welts trailed up his knuckles, further marred by spaced out cuts just starting to scab over.  Her fingers ghosted over the bruises.  How he hadn’t shown an ounce of discomfort in all this time was astounding.

Without force, Loki took his hand back, heedless of her concern.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he says casually.  “I get worse every time we perform.  Nothing to worry about.”

Jane hoped he didn’t believe that would really work on her.  He’d do well to learn that she did not respond well to flippancy, especially over things like this, if he was ever going to hang out with her.  Or around her.

“How did that happen?!”

Loki eyed her in a way she couldn’t explain, holding his injured hand in a feather-light grip.  He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose.

“We were all drinking last night,” he said.  “I had a few too many.  Thought the wall was trying to attack me and reacted accordingly.”

He shrugged and made for the front door, careful as ever not to let the sun in.

“I’ll just get the car and be right back,” he said.  “You don’t seem in a condition to drive.”

Jane’s mouth was agape, and even after she realized how stupid she looked, she was unable to lift it.  Any sort of movement beyond putting one foot in front of the other was impossible.  Even that had her exhausted by the time she was nearing the door.  There was nothing she could do except collapse on a bar stool and hope he’d be willing to carry her when he got back.  Too her alcohol addled mind, this squeaky stool made with think leather over a bar that carried the vague but present smell of vomit was the ultimate in comfort.  Jane leaned her head into elbow instead, while the bartender in the corner chuckled at the sight of her.

“Glad to see you back on your feet, Foster,” he said, coming over. “I was worried about you.”

 Jane took one look at him between her fingers, knowing that she’d never seen him before in her life.

“Thanks,” she slurred.  “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Dave, but usually they just call me bartender,” he said.  He picked up an empty glass and filled it under the sink.  It slid into Jane’s hand with expert precision and she drank deeply from it.  It tasted about how one would expect tap water to taste, but hydration was important, couldn’t forget that.

“You wouldn’t by any chance have the time, would you Dave?”

He checked his watch.  “Quarter to nine.  There somewhere you got to be?”

“Yes, at home, in bed, sleeping this off.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.  A man wandered over to the bar right then, ordering a drink with a very long name Jane had never heard of before and never wanted to hear again.  In fact, if she ever saw another alcoholic beverage again (including light beer) it would be too soon. 

 “I will say, you’re pretty lucky,” said the bartender as he got to work on that order.

Jane breathed in too hard, almost getting water in her nose.  “What?”

“Well, you got a real good guy watching out for you.”

Loki, a good guy.  There was an oxymoron if Jane ever heard one.  Sure, he’d stayed with her while she was unconscious and kept her comfortable until she could move, but he was also the one who kidnapped Darcy for a date with Fandral and then brought her to this godforsaken place.  And he was a crazy rockstar, can’t forget that.

“I mean it,” the bartender said as if sensing her disbelief.  You’d know that if you remembered anything about last night.”

Jane lowered the cup.

“Ah… I’m sorry?”

The bartender shrugged.  “I’m just saying, I like a guy who cares enough about his girl that he’ll throw a few punches when some other guy gets too close.  Plus, he’s got a hell of a right hook.”

As Happy Hour kicked off, the poor bartender now had the task of dealing with five binge drinking customers at once, ending all conversation.  That was just fine as Jane could enjoy relative solitude until Loki’s return.  Her shiny blue Hyundai slipped into view like an old friend.  Seeing it was exactly what Jane needed to feel her blood flowing again, even if moving was still a bit of a challenge.

“Do you need an arm?” he asked, holding his out.

Jane glanced at it, clothed in a leather jacket.  It was kind of a shame because he had really nice arms that she would be happy to hold onto if nothing was blocking them from her. 

‘Ugh stop doing that,’ Jane’s inner voice shouted at her hormones.  _‘This is what- the third time?  I get it!  He’s hot!  Quit reminding me!’_

“I’m fine,” she said.  She continued to say that even after she tripped over the welcome mat and on the sidewalk.  After the third time, she was almost happy that Loki went ahead and carried her the rest of the way.  At least from here she could just watch the bar grow smaller and smaller and not have to deal with the sight of his swollen right hand.

**

It got to the point where Jane had to just accept that Midgard Serpent was going to be a new constant in her life.  That point came around the time she arrived home from a five hour cram session at the library to find Hogun guzzling beer in her living room with his feet up on her coffee table.

“Yo,” he greeted her like someone who had lived there all his life.  “Dinner’s on.  Go eat.”

Said dinner turned out to be half a dozen pizzas all lined up on the kitchen table.  One box had been demolished as everyone fought like rapid dogs over the pepperoni pizza.  Only slightly less damaged (and full) were the sausage and cheese pizzas.  It appeared Sif had a vegetable pizza all to herself that she was working through slowly.  Unsurprisingly, the anchovy pizza was untouched.

“Hey Jane!” Darcy shouted from Fandral’s lap.  “Great news!  I passed all my mid-terms.  Flying colors!”

Jane smiled for her, and only for her.  “So you invited the whole gang to celebrate, huh?”

“Oh no, they came on their own,” said Darcy.

“Our new hotel rooms are shit,” Hogun shouted from the living room.  “Not going back as long as we can help it.”

Jane heard a thud as he threw aside the empty bottle, followed by the snap of him opening another.

“Just be careful of our manager,” said Sif.  “He’s going to find out where we are eventually.  He always does.”

“He knows where everyone is,” said Fandral, eyes going wide.

“It’s really creepy,” said Hogun.

Jane glanced away from them to an empty patch of air she felt should have been occupied by someone.

“Where is…”

She looked at Sif, who looked at Fandral, who looked at Darcy, who feigned a yawn to point at the staircase.

Jane could’ve screamed.

Five minutes later, she was dragging a rather bemused Loki into the kitchen by his arm.  He carried one of her books with him, she hadn’t been able to get it away from him yet.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he said.

“I’m not upset,” she growled.  “Forgive me for not wanting strange men in my bedroom without my permission.”

Loki laughed.  “Jane, I’ve seen you intoxicated.  I’m hardly a stranger.”

“Then forgive me for not wanting weird creeps who never leave me alone in my bedroom.  Is that better?”

“Marginally so.”

Jane prevented herself from throwing him out the door by just leaving him in the hallway to do as he pleased.  Her door was locked tight, so the risk was minimal. She also snatched back the book he’d taken, just for good measure.

“I was reading that,” he said, mildly irate.

“Too bad, get your own.”  She eyeballed the cover, identifying her old high school copy of Othello.

Loki huffed.  “For your information, I did not intend to invade your personal space.  I was searching for some reading material, and yours was the only room in this house with any books in it.  That isn’t my fault.”

Jane couldn’t even look at him anymore.  What made him think she’d believe that?  Nevertheless, he was done arguing with her as he followed the cheesy aroma. 

“And I do have one of my own, thanks,” he added, tapping the book once with his index finger.  Something about it and the way he smiled at her was so ridiculously obscene and enticing at the same time, leaving Jane at a loss for whether she should kick him out or kiss him senseless.

They re-entered the kitchen together.  In the time they’d been gone, Hogun joined the table.  He seemed perfectly content scarfing down the anchovies on his plate.

“So I’ve been thinking that someone should talk to Nikki,” Fandral was saying to him.  “I’m getting kind of worried about him… oh look, the lovebirds return!”

He waved Loki and Jane over, earning a hard glare from the latter. 

“Did you eat all the sausage again?” asked Loki.

Fandral grinned, either ignoring or ignorant of his threatening tone of voice.

“You’ve got a whole half pie right there, pal.  Eat up.”

Loki eyed him suspiciously, but the promised pizza slices were in plain sight.  Jane found herself standing away from the rest, both because all the seats were taken and because she didn’t want to be anywhere near Loki after they’d just been called lovebirds.

Seriously?

Jane couldn’t recall ever doing it with him in a closet or sitting on his lap and feeding him pizza.  Clearly, Fandral’s mind was far too frazzled by a combination of hairspray and Darcy to function properly.  She took tiny bites of the small veggie slice Sif had offered her.  She was never much of a pizza person, but hunger pangs were getting to her.  She should have had more for breakfast than a piece of toast and an apple that was for sure.

“Okay, TV time,” Fandral shouted when almost everyone was finished eating.

Together with Darcy, he ran for the living room, hopping onto the couch and sending the decorative pillows flying.  Fandral seized the last one for throwing at Loki, who dodged. 

“Come on man, grab your girl!  Take a seat.”

Jane sat at the very end of the couch, far away from where Loki was standing.  Sif and Hogun, having stayed behind to clean up, took up the half the couch all on their own, leaving just enough room for Loki to squeeze in right beside Jane.  Turning her head was the extent to which she hid her displeasure. 

Fandral dropped his Jack Daniel’s on the coffee table with an ugly clatter, then took Hogun’s place in propping up his feet.

“You know in most cultures, that’s considered impolite,” Jane said irritably.

Fandral gave her a ‘deer in the headlights’ look as this dawned on him.  “Yeah, you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

He took his feet off the table, then lifted his drink and inserted a coaster underneath.  With that done, he returned to his first position and grinned at Jane, who couldn’t even say it.

Darcy took over the remote, flipping it off the movie channel and onto the news, a baseball game, another movie, a superhero cartoon, and a commercial in quick succession.  Her button pressing skills were quick, but somehow a massive fighting ring with two men punching each other inside senseless registered for everyone, and suddenly three voices were shouting at Darcy to leave it.

“Aw man, I forgot Thor was fighting today,” said Fandral.

From there, the TV audience cheered only a fraction louder than Fandral did.  He jumped around the room whenever Thor Odinson won a round and cursed at the screen when he lost.  For once, even Darcy was getting weirded out.  Only slightly less enthusiastic was Sif, who clapped and cheered, but stayed in her seat.

“I taught him that one,” she said proudly after he performed a complex and violent series of stomach punches to win the tenth round. 

“You guys must’ve had a fun wedding,” said Darcy, and Sif smiled.

In the end, Jane was watching Loki far more than the match.  He was in silent contemplation, like a really hard to please judge.  As Thor blew kisses to the crowd and relished in their screaming his name, Loki could only roll his eyes.

“He’d milk it for hours if he could, forget the match.”

“Isn’t that your brother?” Jane asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed he is,” Loki said.  “And as his brother, I have intimate details into his life and character that no shrieking fan will ever be capable of comprehending, including the fact that he is a criminal show boater and as bullheaded as he is brutishly strong.”

He shared a knowing glance with Sif as the bell rang and the fight was back on. 

“Alrrrright folks, it’s time for the final round!” yelled the announcer.

“WHOOOO!  YEAH!  GET SOME!  GET SOME!  KICK SOME ASS, ODINSON!”

“Would you be quiet, you dumbass,” said Hogun.

Fandral snorted.  “I’m just trying to be supportive.  I don’t see any of you showing your spirit.”

“That’s because we’re not fourteen year old cheerleaders at a pep rally,” said Loki.  “Now be a good dog and sit.”

Hogun forcibly pulled Fandral off his feet with strength Jane didn’t think his skinny body possessed.  Fandral wasn’t pouting for long.  The bell rang and the beaten but determined fighters danced around each other, taking jabs here and there without any substantial hits.  Enthusiasm for the game grew as it went on, though now even Fandral was wise enough to keep to his seat.

“Oh, a hard right from Odinson, that’s gotta hurt.  But Kurse isn’t out for the count just yet.  One left, two lefts- Odinson has taken three left hooks to the face and chest and he is going down-“

The room went into an uproar, with Fandral at the forefront and his bandmates (barring Loki) backing him up, and even Darcy getting into the spring of things.

“That was a cheap move!  His head was turned!”

“Fucking southpaw!”

“Come on babe, you can do it!”

Sif let out a whoop, more energized than Jane had ever seen her.

 Loki himself hadn’t moved an inch or even changed his expression.  There was some kind of gleam in his eye- unless that was just the stove light left on again- that Jane couldn’t help noticing and failed to understand.

“Looks like Odinson isn’t quite out yet.  The ref made it to two and he’s back on his feet.  He is clearly struggling, but let me tell you, I have never seen this much fire in a fighter’s eyes since the release of Rocky II, now that should tell you something about tonight’s fight.  What a show these guys are putting on toni-“

The screen went black, but the screaming went on for a few seconds after as they all needed time to process it.  The signal returned to a news station jingle and a heavy handed voice speaking over it.

“We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin.”

“Are you shitting me?!”

Hogun shushed Fandral loudly.  “I don’t like it either but _don’t scream in my ear_.”

They gave each other a few dirty looks and gestures while the rest left them to it.  Sif was no happier from the looks of her- crossing her arms over her chest and giving the screen a death glare as a middle-aged news anchor in horn-rimmed glasses and an outdated 70s haircut appeared.

“Good evening and welcome to this special report from W-KBG.  It has been seven weeks since the infamous mobster Laufey escaped from prison, going on a rampage that left two guards and five other inmates dead.  Police have finally caught up with him in his Anaheim hideout.  Following a ten minute shoot out with the police- during which one officer and Laufey himself were injured- he was taken into custody at the county police station.  Sources say he will be airlifted to the LAPD’s main precinct sometime tomorrow morning.”

Jane heard the rest in bits and pieces.  The rest of the band had been as lax with coasters as Fandral, and by the time she’d rectified the problem, everyone appeared to be calming down. 

“Huh, well if we can’t watch the match, I guess this is okay,” said Fandral.  He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at Loki.  “Buck up, Silvertongue, this is your family’s great legacy.”

Jane blinked twice.  “Your family?”

“Laufey, whose real name is unknown, has made a niche for himself in the contract killing and enforcing business.  Nearly three hundred unsolved murders have been attributed to him, including those of his wife, Farbauti, and their unborn child.  His first arrest in 1960 accompanied a massive raid of his primary residence, where a reported 2.5 million dollars in cash, jewelry and illegal drugs were found.  The acting head of the police force at the time, Mr. Odin-“

“What does this guy have to do with you?” Jane whispered to Loki, not that anyone cared enough to let her disturb them.

“Nothing,” Loki answered bluntly, and just when Jane thought she’d get no more out of him, he leaned into her ear.  “My father was the policeman who led the raid.  He’s also the one who caught and arrested Laufey in the first place, so for the rest of his career, he was tied to the case.  It happened only a short time after my birth, but you wouldn’t believe the number of times my schoolmates tried to milk me for information.”

The bulletin came to a swift end with a few more of Laufey’s stats and speculation on the whereabouts of his unfound cohorts.  The boxing match snapped back in its place, with the onscreen crowd on their feet, Thor’s opponent a tattered mess on a stretcher and Thor himself in a state of euphoria as he raised his gloved hands to the ceiling, a silent scream on his lips.

**

Jane knocked twice on the door.  It was weird asking for entry into her own guest bedroom, but since its current occupant wasn’t exactly known for his cooperation skills, it was for the best. 

Downstairs, everyone was either celebrating Thor’s victory or lamenting that they hadn’t gotten to watch it.  While initially in the latter category, Sif was instantly cheered up when Thor gave her a big, loving shout-out on TV and alluded to wishing she was there to help tend to his wounds.  She left immediately. 

Loki asked for some privacy in the midst of all this.  He hadn’t given much of a reason other than needing some rest before the big show tomorrow.  The scary black man with the bizarre golden eyes and the presence of a deadly viper showed up an hour later.  All at once, Fandral and Hogun filed into order, with Fandral as the designated speaker.

“Hey there, H,” he said, the sweat on his brow detrimental to the friendly tone of voice he was forcing out.  “Good to see you!  We were just-“

“You were _just_ playing hooky to get out of sound check.  Again.”

Fandral gulped as the man turned to Jane and his continence changed to something off-guardedly polite.

“I’d like to apologize for any trouble they might have caused you,” he said, shaking her hand.  “Unfortunately musicians of this particular breed are harder to control than others and sometimes they get off their leash.”

Fandral made a sound and raised a finger, but there was not a peep from him when the man gave him an icy glare that seemed to literally freeze him in place.

“Don’t even _think_ about telling me you don’t like the hotel room’s wallpaper and that’s why you’re here,” he said.

Having intimidated the implacable band into submission, the man once again turned on a dial.

“I’ll have these miscreants out of your hair at once, Ms…”

“Er… Jane Foster,” she said. 

Subtle surprise dawned on him, to the point where Jane almost couldn’t tell it was there.

“Ah, so _you’re_ the one I’ve been hearing about,” he said.  “Where can I find Silvertongue?”

That was how Jane found herself in front of the door, her arm up for a third knock that wouldn’t come. 

She picked up the sounds, many of them all at once.  They faded into one another, a frantic yet passionate melody.  The music swelled, fast and loud like the beating of her heart.  The door creaked, Jane was never aware that she’d opened it.

Loki was on the bed, fingers racing along the strings of his guitar in a blur.  Jane watched intently and was sure she never saw them once.  Loki’s head was thrown back, closed off to all but what existed inside this little bubble created by the notes he coaxed from the strings.  The song wasn’t something Jane recognized, he could’ve been making it up on the fly for all she knew.  Sif once implied that Loki couldn’t come up with music like that.  Either she was completely wrong, or this was actually crap and making good music was infinitely harder than Jane could ever comprehend.

The song didn’t seem to have an end.  It stopped when Loki slammed his palm on the strings to halt the vibrations.  He raised his head slowly, eyes burning into hers.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked, feeling rather stupid for it.

“Warming up.”  He threw his legs over the side of the bed, setting the guitar down like it was his child.  “I do that sometimes, just to keep busy in the quiet moments.”

“Where did you get that guitar?”

“My car.”  He said it in such a way that Jane felt physically struck.  She was just asking all the obvious questions tonight, wasn’t she?

Loki took up the guitar by the long end (what was it called again?).  He turned the little knobs, changing the pitch of each note as he played it until everything was as he wanted it.  He pushed the pad of one finger into the little port, muttering about the lack of an amp.  He played regardless, the same tune from before with a few deviations in rhythm and flow, making it sound even more complex and transcendent.

“Tell Heimdall I’ll be down in a minute.”

Jane nodded, not bothering to ask how he knew the man was there or to comply with his request.  At the moment, there was nothing Jane could do but watch and listen.  This raw, untamed version of the music she had hated for so long could almost turn around and become something she embraced wholeheartedly.  Just the thought of it did strange things to her stomach, and for now it might be best if she forgot all about it and left him to his thoughts.

What stopped her was the look on his face, the intensity.  The way his eyes scrunched up when he came so close to a climax and then brought it down because he wasn’t ready to let the moment end.  His music caught Jane by the collar, carrying her away with him to the stars. 

_Look to the stars._

Heimdall was just going to have to wait on that sound check. 

And Darcy was right about Loki:

He had _amazing_ hands.


	4. Wanted Dead or Alive

_“…and that was Look to the Stars, the new smash hit from your favorite band, Midgard Serpent.  Coming up, we have a full hour of Motley Crue’s Theater of Pain in celebration of the band’s first ever Asian tour.  That’s what’s up next here on W-“_

Jane switched to another station, one that played soft rock interwoven with the occasional burst of static that reminded Jane that they were well overdue for a new radio.  Humming along to Steve Winwood and Gregory Abbott, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her dress.  It was the blue one with the tiny white polka dots.  Over one hundred dollars full price, bought for a mere thirty at the old dress shop just before it went under.  Paired with dark blue leggings, it was the perfect outfit for today.  Not too fancy, but not too casual either.  No one, rockstar or otherwise, could look at her in this and get any ideas.

She got Loki’s call last night out of the blue.  In retrospect, it made perfect sense that someone who performed in a band used to night shows would have a much different sleep schedule than normal people, but he had been criminally awake sounding at three thirty in the morning when he asked her if she’d be so kind as to help him entertain a friend the next day.  Jane said yes only so she could hang up and go back to sleep.  She went about her business the next day, barely thinking about the odd little ‘dream’ she had had.  He called her again two hours ago to ask if five was a good time to pick her up, and what could Jane have said but yes- shell-shocked as she was?

It hit hard and wore off fast.  Getting ready was easy, even fun, dare she say it.  Her makeup applied and her hair brushed, she killed the next twenty minutes by losing herself in the latest chapter of her physics text.  With one hand, she took down some notes for later, going off line more than once as she had trouble tearing her eyes away from the page.  She had thought only Loki at the door would be capable of stopping her.  That was when the phone rang.

“Hello?”  Jane wedged the receiver between her neck and shoulder as she marked her place in the book.

“Jane?”

“Betty!  How are you doing?”

Betty sighed on the other end.  “Well, I could be a lot better, let’s put it that way.”

Jane scrunched up her brow and took the phone with her hand.

“What’s going on?  Not more with your dad, I hope.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but yeah.  I think I’m pretty much done with him after this one.”

The phone’s cord tugged at Jane’s hand.  She backed up into the kitchen, leaning on the refrigerator.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said.

“Why do you think I called you?”  Betty sniffled, taking her time to dry her eyes and clear her throat before going on.  Jane glanced at the clock at least three times while she waited.  “So I told him about the engagement.”

Jane grimaced sympathetically.  “That must’ve gone well.”

“Bruce was with me.”

“ _Really_ well.”

“And Dad flipped his lid, started ranting about how Bruce must be forcing me to marry him because _of course_ his little girl wouldn’t be stupid enough to tie herself down to some third class punk with anger issues.  Then I started yelling, and Bruce was trying to calm me down, but then Dad punched Bruce in the face!”

“You’re _kidding.”_

“I wish.  Bruce nearly lost it after that, and you and I both know he’s way stronger than he looks.  I had to stop him from knocking all my dad’s teeth out.”

With a groan, Jane ran fingers through her hair, absently noting a few knots that needed untangling.

“So what are you doing now?” she asked.

“I’m at Bruce’s place at the moment, and I’m thinking I’ll be spending the night,” Betty said.  “For a while, we’d been talking about finding someplace bigger and moving in together, and it looks like that’s the plan.   For now, I just really needed someone to talk to.”

Her indirect plea reached out to Jane, like Betty was right there with her arms around her, seeking warmth and comfort.  Jane didn’t know what she could say- she’d never been much of an ‘advice giver,’ maybe just a good listener.

Betty never did ask for anything in the time she spent going on about how much of a prick her dad had been since her mother died and how she still loved him even though she didn’t want to anymore.  Jane’s heart clenched when the latter came up.  The picture of her Dad was the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning.

The front door was then loudly unlocked and opened, and Loki was not remotely close to having that privilege, so Jane barely reacted when Darcy darted through the kitchen, home at last from a night of celebratory drinking with her friends. 

“Morning Jane, nice dress!” she shouted.

Jane shushed her and pressed the phone more fully into her ear.  Darcy got the point, if only just.

“Ah, right!  Okay, not bothering you.”

She hopped off into the living room, her feet thumping on the floor and in Jane’s ears.  One day, they’d have to have a talk about that, sometime when Jane wasn’t so talked out.

“Anyway, thanks for listening, Jane,” Betty let out a breath into the receiver, and aside from that Jane could hear the conviction returning to her voice.  “I’m sorry for unloading all this on you.”

“Don’t be,” said Jane.

Three knocks came and felt like someone knocking against her head.  Jane had just enough time to end the call in a sensitive way and get to the door before Darcy did.  She almost wished she hadn’t once she got a good look at Loki and her throat closed up.

She’d seen him dressed well before- without all the leather and chains and eyeliner- but not like this.  He had on a normal black suit with an overcoat; his hair was gelled back and his face clean shaven.  Somehow the tie was what got her, how out of place it was on his body.  Businessmen wore ties.  College professors wore ties.  Her dad wore ties on his work days.  Loki did not wear ties.  If she had tried to imagine it before she opened this door, it would have been both impossible and laughable.  Now she had no idea what she’d been thinking, because of course, like everything else he ever wore, he looked absolutely fantastic in it. 

He was not human.  That was the only possible explanation.

 _‘Of course not, he’s a rock god,’_ said Darcy’s voice in her head.  _‘Emphasis on god.’_

“Shut up…”

“I’m sorry?”

Jane blinked, and in that time her face went from white to an interesting shade of red that she could almost see herself if she focused on her nose. That was a private conversation with her inner-Darcy or whatever it was.  The only consolation was that she’d only managed to vocalize the least humiliating part of it.

“Er- ‘come in’, is what I said.”  Jane stepped away from the door, far enough that he couldn’t see her anymore.

“I would love to, but we really must be going,” he said.  He sounded so prim and proper about it too, though come to think about it, hadn’t he always been like that?  He was definitely more eloquent than his fellow ‘metalheads’ even if his behavior was otherwise perfectly in line with theirs. “You look very nice, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Jane said carefully.  Reaching blindly, she found her handbag and was just out the door when a tinkling laugh informed her that she was not in the clear.

“So,” Darcy said as she leaned against the wall in a way that probably would’ve worked better if Fandral was in the room instead of them.  “Cool look you’re rocking there, Silver.  You’ve got that whole sexy, businessman in a fedora, ‘Don’t-arrest-me-I’m-not-a-communist’ thing going on.”

Though Loki was smiling, Jane got the feeling he didn’t know how to respond to that.  He should try living with her sometime. 

“Thank you Darcy,” is what he eventually went with.  “I’m glad you approve.”

“Yeah, it’s way better than that crazy Alice Cooper thing you guys did at your last show,” Darcy feigned gagging as Loki’s smile- for whatever reason- got even bigger.  “And you in particular with all that make-up, it’s like you tried to be Alice but rocketed straight over the line and became Gene instead.  Who even wants to be Gene anymore?”

“Gene is actually very pleasant company once you get to know him.”  Loki wrapped an arm around Jane’s shoulder to bring her outside with him.  “And personally, I thought our vaudevillian show went very well.  Vincent told me as much when I spoke to him about it.”

He took great pleasure in closing the door on Darcy’s stunned face.

**

“So, Darcy calls you ‘Silver’ now?”

Jane couldn’t not laugh at the evident disdain as Loki’s previously neutral expression distorted, but for his sake, she kept her mouth shut.

“Yes, it’s a new thing apparently.”  Loki clicked his tongue.  “And here I never thought I could hate anything more than ‘Silvertongue.’”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Jane said teasingly.

They walked along the busy boardwalk, seagulls flying overhead towards the ocean.  Waves crashed and carried seaweed and debris, but one would not expect to find any swimmers in the dead of winter.  It was lucky today had been warmer, or else Jane would probably have frostbite from the neck down by now.  She held Loki’s overcoat over her shoulders.  Wearing it felt weird; all those stares they were getting had to have the same assumptions behind them.  Jane didn’t care about that, or so she told herself.  Let them think what they want.  Loki was unrecognizable like this, and they were just a bunch of strangers anyway.

“Look mommy,” a little girl shouted, pointing at them.  “There’s a pretty lady and a pretty man on a date!”

“Leave them alone, Maggie, let’s go.”

It brought a little smile to Jane’s face, because of course this wasn’t a date.  They wouldn’t even be alone in another couple of minutes.  Loki had been quite chivalrous in giving her his jacket, but from there, they maintained distance, far enough not to touch but close enough that they were clearly walking together.  As the winds grew harder and colder, Jane started wondering how it would be to be warmed by his actual arms, rather than those of the coat. 

“The restaurant is just up ahead,” he said with an upward jab of his chin.  “I hope you enjoy seafood.”

“I like sea bass,” she said lamely and only to keep him talking.  He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since they got here, never speaking unless spoken to.  “Will your friend be waiting for us?”

“Knowing her, she is already there,” said Loki.  He took on a wistful expression Jane couldn’t explain.  “And I should tell you, she’s far more than a friend to me.”

Jane nearly tripped up. No one could’ve blamed her if she did.  There was a full plank missing from the boardwalk where she had stepped, and he’d just dropped a pretty big bomb on her with that one.

_‘More than a friend?’_

He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he meant.  After all this time doing everything short of declaring her his future wife?

Of course, Jane had never been one to jump to conclusions.  There were a lot of things he could’ve meant by that.  Maybe they were meeting Sif and he was just messing with her first for his own amusement. 

The restaurant came into view, but no matter where Jane looked, Sif’s black hair never materialized.  The only woman who sat alone was a blonde, her hair elaborately styled into ringlets.  As they got closer, her age became apparent, though she showed it with grace and beauty.  Her fingers were laced and the sunlight shone on her many rings, one of them clearly a gold band. 

She stood from her chair- leaving behind a glass of wine and untouched shrimp cocktail- as Jane and Loki stepped through the gate and a passing waitress welcomed them to Enterprise Fish Co.

“Loki, darling!” the woman hoisted herself up, using her arms around him as leverage- to plant a wet kiss on his cheek.  “Oh look at you, I wish you’d wear a suit more often, you look so handsome.”

“It’s not suitable for the job, mother,” he said, hugging her back.  “Mother, I’d like you to meet a dear friend of mine, this is Jane Foster.  Jane, this is Frigga, my mother.”

The serene woman took Jane’s hand in a deceptively firm grip.  It hurt a little when Frigga let go. 

“I’m so thrilled to finally meet you, Jane,” she said.  The way she was beaming at her made Jane think she was about to get a hug as well, and she didn’t know if she would want it or not.

“You too,” she said.  It was all that she could think of.

**

“You know, Loki, I think this is the first day we’ve spent just the two of us since your album was released,” Frigga took a delicate bite of her catfish dinner while Loki mostly picked at his mussels.  She’d kept up conversation all throughout their meal, and Jane found herself liking Frigga more and more as it went on.  “I don’t mean to exclude you of course, Jane, you’ve been wonderful company.”

“Thanks, so have you.”

The two of them shared a laugh that Loki either couldn’t or wouldn’t partake in, but then he _had_ gone pretty quiet the second his mother brought up the subject of him.

“May I also say how glad I am that he’s found a friend outside of those ruffians he plays with.”

“Mother, you’ve known Fandral and Hogun since they were boys,” said Loki.  “And Sif is your daughter-in-law.”

“Well of course they are not whom I speak of,” Frigga said, slightly affronted.  “Really, Loki, I read all the articles about those other bands.  I know what they do.”

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Jane whispered, leaning up to Loki’s ear.  Despite her best efforts, she was not unheard.

“Thank you, Jane,” said Frigga.  Putting down her fork and knife, she went for her purse.  Meanwhile, Loki looked on helplessly. 

“Oh Mother, don’t…”

“A-ha!” she pulled forth a small and thick leather bound book. It was red in color with a gold trim; the word ‘memories’ was stamped across the center in flowery cursive.  “Now, at this point, I believe I’m obligated to share some family photos, and let you see how this strapping young man here was as a boy.”

“No, you really aren’t.”

“I think she is,” said Jane, as she was obligated to. 

She buried the image of him hiding his face in his hands into the deep recesses of her memory.  That was _not_ something she wanted to forget anytime soon; the invincible god of rock Silvertongue had a human side after all.

“Now, here is Loki and Thor on Loki’s fifth birthday.  We had a chocolate cake that year and Thor pushed Loki’s entire head into it!”

“Really?” Jane chuckled.  She cast a glance at Loki, but he appeared to be trying to use his mind to dig a hole in the ground beneath them to escape and couldn’t talk to her.

“Loki got his revenge a few months later on Thor’s seventh birthday when he somehow managed to get a live snake into the presents.  It was harmless, of course, but poor Thor didn’t know that.”

“I’m guessing Loki didn’t get any cake that time either.”

“Yes, but I don’t think he was too upset about it.  Oh, here’s one from his grade school graduation.”

Photo after photo was displayed before Jane’s eyes, a better picture of Loki Odinson than any of Darcy’s magazines would ever give.  Through them, she saw an awkward little boy struggling to come into himself.  All the pictures of Thor had him smiling and waving at the camera, while Loki ranged from too reserved to grin to too sullen to even look.  Only in his solo shots did she see the stories behind them.  One of the earlier ones also included Frigga herself, hugging Loki from behind as he sat with an acoustic guitar in his lap.  It was far too big for his tiny frame, but he held it like an expert.

“That’s my old guitar.  I taught Loki his first notes on it.  I got him one of his own the next year on his birthday, my little natural.”

“He is very good,” Jane said and meant it.  Weeks had gone by since that fateful encounter, and she still had dreams about his hands on the strings (and in a few other places…).

“Actually, according to Kerrang!, I’m the third best metal guitarist overall,” said Loki proudly, not that this phased either of the women.

“Oh darling, you’ve never given those things any weight,” Frigga said dismissively.  “And if this Kerring had any credibility at all, they would have placed you at the top of the list.”

“Of course, Mother.”  He leaned forward, obstinately a more open gesture, but then he started inching for the photo album.  “Now that I think about it, there have been other articles that you might like to hear about if you would just-“

Frigga jerked the album away right as his fingers hovered over it. 

“Later, Loki, I’m busy with your girlfriend.”

Of course that was the moment Jane picked to take a drink, and of course she would have to whip her head all the way around and get whiplash trying to avoid spitting it out all over Frigga.  Loki, by comparison, had a much more composed reaction to the ‘G’ word.

“Mother, we have discussed this.  Jane is a friend and nothing more.  We are _not_ dating.”

“Maybe not _now_ ,” Frigga said with absolute certainty in her tone.  “Now then, here is one from Loki’s high school graduation.  You can’t tell, but he was a little bony back then-“

“Mother, _please._ ”

“And here he is four years later, graduating college.”

They were at the end of the album, the final photo showing the entire family- Sif included- with Loki himself in the center.  He held a diploma in hand.  Looking carefully, the college’s seal was on the ribbon, but that told her nothing.  Not like the banner they were standing directly under with the school’s name plastered all over it.

“You went to _Cambridge_?” she looked at him now like he was something she’d never seen before (and he really was).

“He did a double first,” said the beaming Frigga. 

She let go of the album, letting it fall into Jane’s hands.  She stared for the longest time at the graduation photo, and the younger version of Loki smiling proudly at the lens.  All the while, she felt his eyes on her, but she couldn’t make herself look up.

**

“I can’t thank you enough for coming along today, Jane.”

Jane rested against the plywood fence; it was strong for what it was.  The air was finally warming up, creating so relaxing an atmosphere that Jane could’ve fallen asleep right there with her head on his arm.

“Even after all those pictures?”

He sucked in a breath, making Jane snort like a pig into her hand. 

“Well, if there was one thing that I could take back, it would be that.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” she said.

“Who said you’d have a choice?”

He stepped back, and now nothing but air held her up.  Somehow, that little petty act didn’t seem so out of place for him anymore.  Frigga’s clear laughter at their backs rang like a bell and had humor bubbling up in Jane’s stomach.

“But you know,” she looked out at the sea, “it was really nothing.”

“On the contrary, Mother was in a better mood today than she has been in weeks, and I don’t want you to think you aren’t part of the reason,” said Loki.

Jane gave a low whistle.  “Was it the Laufey thing?”

Loki didn’t nod or shake his head, but his moment of silence coupled with the hands he shoved in his pockets was very telling.

“I don’t know why she worries so much.  Even if Laufey did want revenge, he’d have a hell of a time getting to us.”

He wore a cocky smirk as he spoke, and _there_ was the Loki Jane knew.  Maybe it was just the mood or the fact that there was a soft side in there if you looked carefully (really carefully), but she was starting to appreciate it a little more. 

Jane’s watch was ticking audibly, unless the sound of it was all in her head.  The next cram session with her new research partner was in less than an hour and there wasn’t a phone in sight with which to call the library.  She really should have left half an hour ago.

“Just ask me, Jane.”

She blinked several times until her eyes itched.  He watched, waiting for her answer or for a question in return.  From the change in expression, the question that left her mouth wasn’t the one he wanted.

“Ask what?”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, and Jane would’ve been indignant about it all, but secretly she wanted to know what he meant.

“Ask me about Cambridge,” he elaborated.  “I know you want to.”

She kind of did, truth be told.  The thought had slipped her mind for a time, but inevitably it would’ve returned whether he asked her or not, and she would’ve been consumed by unanswerable questions and improvable theories until the next time he graced her with his presence.  Probably for the best that they get it other with now.

“Oh well- I guess I was wondering about a couple of things.”  Nope, this wasn’t getting awkward at all.  “Uh- was it nice there?”

“If by nice, you mean stuffy and dull to the point of suicidal thoughts, then yes, it was nice,” he said quite bluntly.  “At least during class it was.”

Jane nodded.  “And you did a double first.”

“Yes, some of the worst sleepless nights of my life were spent working on that,” he said like the mere memory of it brought him intense physical pain and exhaustion.

“It’s a big deal, though,” Jane murmured, almost so that he couldn’t hear her.  “I mean, I always knew you were smart, but to have gone to Cambridge and to have done so well - there is so much you could do with that.”

“It’s a decent fallback,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I won’t pretend that this’ll last forever.  The tides of public opinion will turn against us someday, and it’s comforting to know I won’t end up in the slums when it does.  You know, one of my professors once told me that I was going to cure cancer in ten years.  There’s three years left. Think I can make it?”

“But you play music instead.”  Jane began fiddling with the zipper of her jacket pocket and regretting more and more that she hadn’t just skipped dessert and gone to study.  At least that was easy.  “Some people might call it a waste.”

“They do, Jane,” Loki said emphatically.  “And not _some_ people either.  No one in my extended family believes I’m doing the right thing no matter how successful I become, and none are more vocal about their disapproval than my father.”

“He wanted you to be a doctor or something?”

“A scientist more like it.”  Loki made a face.  “If not that, then a professor of science, anything except one of those ‘foolish starving musicians nobody cares about’.  Of course it’s all _fine_ and _wonderful_ that Thor wants to punch people in the head for a living, but _I’m_ the one wasting his life.”

He let loose a sad, hollow laugh that made Jane wish she could cheer him up, but that could require touching him or- even worse- giving advice.  She got a little closer to him, the best her nerve-wracked brain would allow. 

“So why do you do it?” she asked.  “Play music I mean?”

“I don’t know,” he countered.  “Why do you look to the stars?”

His words had her looking up, as any mention of the stars often did.  It wasn’t a conscious thing, just an impulse, as deeply ingrained into her psyche as walking and talking.  Tonight, the stars were no more visible than they ever were in the light polluted city of Los Angeles, but like always, she took comfort in knowing that they were _there_ , and someday they would be there for her.  That was her greatest dream, her biggest desire out of life, her calling.

“You know,” she said softly, her eyes alight the way his were.  “If you want, you could come by the house sometime.  Maybe bring your guitar and play a little.  I bet Darcy would like that.”

Loki shot her a knowing look.  “Darcy?”

Jane gave him one right back.  “ _I_ would like it.”

“Hmmm…” he made a real show of it, so that Jane felt like grabbing a French fry off the nearest table just to have something to throw at him.  “I might take you up on that.”

He took her hand without warning, brought it to his lips and kissed it.  As Jane struggled with the raging heat setting her insides aflame, she forgot not to giggle or bite her lip.

“Are you really the same badass rocker everyone calls Silvertongue?”

“Would you like me to set something on fire and then shag our waitress on the table?”

“Maybe later, I have studying to do.”  Jane backed away slowly, so she didn’t hit anything while he kept her captive with his gaze.  “Give me a call.”

He smiled.  “You know I will.”

**

Loki waited for her to get on the bus to go back to his mother.  Call him paranoid, but he knew the type of seedy people who hung around this side of town.  Some of them, he knew personally.  She could surely take care of herself, but better safe than sorry.  He saw her off and then returned to the table.  He didn’t get far before Frigga’s shivering form as she held her head in her hands became clear.

“Mother!”

He shoved a few people aside to reach her, their complaints falling on deaf ears.  He got to her side, pulling her hands away to see makeup running down her face.

“Mother, what is it?  What’s wrong?”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperate or a response that he could do something about. Had one of the waiters tried something on her?  Where they being charged ridiculous amounts for their meal just because they looked rich?

 “I’m fine, darling,” she said and brushed his hands off of her.  “It’s this new foundation.  I think I might be allergic to it.”

“That looks like far more than an allergy,” said Loki.  He offered her a handkerchief from his pocket (first checking to make sure it wasn’t the one Fandral threw up in that one time).  “Mother, please don’t lie to me.”

She choked on a breath, badly covering it up with the handkerchief, and now Loki didn’t know if comforting her or begging forgiveness for whatever he had said was the proper course of action.  It left him to sit uselessly at her side, praying that it would pass and she would become her old sunny self again.  In between that he cursed that bastard Laufey for terrifying her and driving her to this.  May he rot in that cell until the fiery pits of hell dragged him down.

Gulping in air, Frigga dropped her hands.  She was a mess, but the tears had dried, and for that alone, Loki could breathe easy.

“There now, all better,” he said.  She used to speak him like that when he was a child and Thor or one of his friend’s had pushed him in the mud.  That was before Loki learned to fight back.

She must have recognized it.  The way she pressed her soft hands to his cheeks was so very cathartic to the both of them.

“Oh Loki,” she said.  “My son… when did you get so big?  You used to be no higher than my knee.”

“And now it’s the other way around.”

She swatted his chest playfully, and Loki used the opportunity to pull her to him, holding and hugging his mother for all she was worth, letting her know that it was alright.  He was there and he would never let anything happen to her.

“Mother, listen to me now,” he said in her ear.  “It’s over.  Laufey is behind bars where he belongs.  You have no reason to fear him.  We should all just forget about him and get on with our lives.”

“Loki Odinson?”

The voice came from behind, resonating like a man on a stage (Loki would know).  He was actually entering through the southern gate, weaving his way around tables and chairs to reach the mother and son.  Loki took his time appraising the stranger.  He had a clean cut, business-y look, dressed in a finely tailored suit with a plain red tie and gold cufflinks.  He was older, somewhere between middle and retirement age, and like Frigga, he was aging well.  His hair was snow white and tousled, his eyes a shocking blue.  Though he wore a smile, there was no warmth behind it.  In fact his entire manner seemed to ooze coldness, slime, and arrogance.  Loki disliked him immediately.  That he hadn’t even gotten his name yet was a matter of trivialities.

“What can I do for you, good sir?” he asked, forcing politeness simply for the sake of not making a scene.  Frigga always knew when he was faking it anyway.  “We were in the middle of a private conversation.”

“I promise not to take too much of your time,” he said in friendly tones that were even faker than Loki’s.  “Mrs. Odinson.”

He nodded at Frigga.  Loki resisted the urge to snap his fingers in his face so that he would stop looking at her like that.  Any longer and he might just take those eyes out and save time.

“Well, we are waiting,” he said roughly.

The man’s smile faltered.  “Mr. Odinson, my name is Colm Feore.  I’m an attorney representing Mr. Laufey.  Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

Mark one more tick under the ‘ignore him and leave’ box.  Loki had a feeling those were just going to just continue racking up.

“I don’t believe there is a person alive who doesn’t know of him,” he said.  “And since you know my name, you are clearly aware of my father’s role in his downfall, so I have no idea why you are bothering to ask.  More than that, I wonder how you even knew to find me here in the first place.”

“I spoke to your manager,” Feore said coolly.  All attempts at being approachable appeared to have gone out the window, a change Loki approved of.  He hated when people tried to play him, especially when they were so lazy and transparent about it.  Better then to be honest about things. “That is not important however.  What _is_ important is that Mr. Laufey has requested an audience with you, and has asked me to inform you of the situation and to make sure that you are cooperative.”

“Is that so?” Loki asked, grinning.  “Well, I must say, this is a shock.  Why Laufey would want to see me of all people… I can’t help but think this is some poor excuse for a revenge plot against my father.  Tell me, when I go to the prison cell, will he hold me hostage with a bar of soap?”

“Mr. Odinson, as I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Laufey has been the primary suspect of several hundred unsolved murder cases, most shockingly that of his pregnant wife.”

“And what does that have to do with this?”

“ _Everything_ , Mr. Odinson.” 

Loki heard Frigga’s breathing getting heavier, and then his own chest tightened up.

“Please explain what you are talking about,” he said softly, eyes narrowed at the man.  “Because quite frankly, Mr. Feore, I don’t like your face, and I _really_ don’t like the way you are distressing my mother.  So get to the point and then leave.” _‘While I’m still deciding which of your vital organs I would like to remove from your person,’_ he mentally added.

In the back of his mind, he noted that the area was suddenly less crowded than it had been.  Whoever had been sitting around them must have realized the growing danger and fled.  All the better for him if this man tried anything, but Loki doubted that would be a problem.  Feore clearly recognized that he was playing with fire and took a step back, as if that was going to save him.

“Yes, well” he said through a fit of coughing, “my point is that Laufey has made a startling revelation about his wife, namely that she was not pregnant at the time of her death.  She had, in fact, given birth to a healthy baby boy some weeks before.  The police did not realize this at the time as it was a home birth, and no birth certificate for the infant was ever filed.  Farbauti’s body was too badly damaged to perform a proper autopsy, and so that procedure was forgone as well.  The child seems to have disappeared without a trace.”

“What are you trying to say?” Loki asked warningly, his eyes narrowed.

Feore raised an eyebrow.

“Mr. Odinson, do you _really_ need to ask me that question?”

Loki laughed, loudly and openly, and those who remained could be heard hastily begging their waitress for a new table somewhere far away.

“I do, sir,” he said with some difficulty.  “Because I believe you just implied that I am the son of that madman!”

Feore maintained a neutral expression while Loki had a good laugh at his expense.  He was so filled with mirth that Frigga’s stone silence barely registered with him, not until he went to invite her to share in his good humor, and found something that made his blood run cold.

Frigga was pale in the face, what remained of her eyeliner creating raccoon-like circles around her eyes.  She was clutching his handkerchief, so tightly that he thought he saw some red on it. 

“Mother?” Loki turned completely to face her, shutting out Feore and his ugly face for the moment.  “Mother, what is wrong?  Why are you-“

“Loki…”  He froze.  He literally felt like a block of ice had formed in his vocal cords and taken away his speech.  Never in his entire life had she ever said his name like that.  “Loki, oh my Loki.”

Horrible sobs sent her headfast into his chest.  Loki held her tight, keeping her upright as she wept, soaking his most expensive coat with her tears.

“Mother…” he said weakly.  “What...”

“I’m sorry,” she was saying now, her words so terribly clear to his ears.  “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry…”

She repeated those words over and over again, and Loki counted each iteration, even when he didn’t want to.  Feore took a seat at an empty table, content to order a martini on the rocks and wait for an end to the display.  Loki couldn’t ask that he leave, or take Frigga and go himself.  He couldn’t throw the drink in the man’s face and then rip it off, he couldn’t speak or shout or demand answers from anyone.  All he could do was sit on bruising knees, holding his mother and feeling like the whole world around him was being torn to pieces.

**

Jane signed her name at the bottom of the paper.  Her handwriting had more of a flourish than she intended, but after working through the chicken scratch that had been her first draft, she deserved to go a little crazy.  The room smelled of fresh ink and her fingers ached from tapping metal keys for three hours straight.  Both the scent and the pain were pleasing to her, though, as was the sight of the final page of her report, sitting in the slop of her electric typewriter.  It signified a successful end to another grueling homework assignment, and another hurdle jumped on her way to that Ph.D.  She wrote the J in her name exceptionally big. It cut across a few letters in the actual report, but a little white out would take care of that no problem.

She stored the essay in an unused folder and slid that into her school bag, which in turn went under her newly made bed on a vacuumed carpet.  Jane gave a long sigh, already feeling the rewards of a day’s work done.  She could do whatever she wanted from now to Monday.  She could sleep all day, she could read, she could pig out on chips and dip, she could even stare at the phone for inordinate amounts of time and wonder why he hadn’t called her in a week.

The only phone in the house was downstairs, an outdated piece of junk that dropped way more calls than were made.  Darcy had been on it last Jane checked, but the silence downstairs when she walked to the bathroom was unsettling.  She could just sit at the kitchen table with a book and some ice cream and wait until nightfall.  Darcy would think she was just relaxing after finishing all her homework, and then she’d put two and two together anyway when she caught Jane glanced at the phone one too many times.

When did Jane even get like this?  She was not someone who sat around pining after a guy she’d known for a little over a month.  She was not someone who sat around pining after a guy _period_.  If he wasn’t into her, she wouldn’t bother, but that couldn’t possibly be the case with Loki.  He’d interjected himself into her life so many times since they’d met- he’d introduced her to his _mother_ for God’s sake- only to quit cold turkey now?

 _‘Well, why not?’_ said the smug inner voice that never stopped sounding like one of those girls who used to bully her in middle school.  _‘He is a rockstar you know.  How many girls could he have gone through before you came along?  For all you know, this could’ve just been a big game to try and get your attention, and now that he has it, he doesn’t think it’s worth it to go on.  I mean, you never even slept with him.’_

Jane winced.  That copy of Dialogo was sitting conspicuously atop a tower of books, but Jane took the one below it. 

 _‘Shut up,’_ she snapped at the inner voice.  _‘And quit listening to Darcy.’_

The kitchen TV was on when Jane got downstairs.  She flipped channels once, from a baseball game to the news.  A picture of that Laufey guy was at the corner of the screen, but the anchor didn’t get two words out before Jane shut the whole thing off.  To her momentary confusion, she could still hear him talking.  Groaning, Jane pushed past the swinging doors leading into the living room and was unsurprised to find her roommate before the big set.

“Darcy, how many times do I have to tell you?  If you’re coming in here to watch TV, turn off the one in the kitchen.”

“Sorry, forgot,” Darcy said without looking up.  She had a piece of popcorn between her teeth, and let it sit there until she saw fit to pull it in with her tongue.  “You should probably watch this anyway.”

She threw a few more popcorn pieces at the screen, which they missed entirely.  Jane would have to clean that up later, but first she needed to figure out why Darcy was suddenly interested in Laufey of all people.

_“Just a few weeks ago, Laufey was re-captured following a daring escape from San Quentin State Prison, where he had been serving three consecutive life sentences.  With a new trial on the way and mass media attention, Laufey seems happy to fan the flames with a rather shocking claim about his family.  Specifically, his deceased wife Farbauti and their unborn son.  Now, it seems the latter statement is not quite as true as was once believed.”_

“What is this?” Jane thought aloud.  She wasn’t speaking to anyone, but Darcy still saw fit to shush her.

_“Known as modern day’s answer to Al Capone, Laufey’s confirmed kills measure in the double digits, with a potential number in the triples.  Though he has long remained mum on the true extent of his crimes, Laufey has finally opened up about one of them.  Farbauti died in 1960, just a day before the infamous raid on her husband’s estate.  She was burned alive in the pool house, supposedly while pregnant with the couple’s child.  However, Laufey has now alleged that not only had Farbauti already given birth to their child, but that the boy was found and secretly adopted by former chief of police, Odin Borson._

_“Loki Odinson, the younger son of Borson and lead guitarist of the popular hair metal band, Midgard Serpent, was approached by Laufey’s attorney with the allegations, and willingly consented to a paternity test.  He was quoted saying that the allegations were not only ridiculous, but an insult to both himself and his family, and was confident that the results would confirm the whole thing as a complete farce.  Unfortunately for Mr. Odinson, it seems his confidence was ill placed, as DNA testing has proved without a shadow of a doubt that Loki Odinson is the biological son of Laufey, and his wife, Farbauti._

_“Following the announcement, Mr. Odinson refused to give a statement to the press, as did his adoptive brother, American heavyweight contender, Thor Odinson, and his sister-in-law and bandmate, Sif Odinson.  Midgard Serpent will be playing their next concert next Friday at the Roxy, and their platinum debut album, Love Canon and Other Stories, can be purchased at record stores near you-“ **click**_

Darcy loosened her grip on the remote, so it fell with a clank on the coffee table, and Jane could gawk at the black screen without obstruction while attempting to make sense of what she had just seen.

Loki?

Adopted?

The son of Laufey?

“Well,” Darcy said nervously, “guess now we know why he isn’t calling you.”

Like she’d received a lightning bolt to the brain, Jane went flying back into the kitchen.  The receiver was in her hand and she was dialing his number without any conscious thought of what she would say, what she _could_ say. 

She called him once, twice, three times in quick succession.

He never once picked up the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, the drama is heating up now. We're two thirds of the way through the story, only two chapters to go. Coming up: more rocking, more romance, Loki pulls an Axel Rose and Jane has to deal with the fallout. See you then!


	5. Welcome to the Jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, one more chapter to go already. I had been planning on waiting a few more days to finish and post this one, and then I found out that today is Nikki Sixx's birthday, so I put it out a little earlier. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, please be aware this chapter contains strong language/slurs.

Jane didn’t use the campus library much.  Neither did anyone else.  With the much larger and more extensive public library just a block away, there was really no need for it.  Aside from textbooks, anything that one could get here, they could get there without a student ID card and with a better selection to choose from.  That made the campus library an ideal spot for anyone who wanted to be alone, whether to study or to reflect on their lives and the lives of those around them or to try doing both and mostly fail.

She threw aside her physics book after several minutes of re-reading the same sentence.  The library’s only other occupants were a girl with giant headphones on and a pair of surfer dudes who disappeared into the medieval history section about an hour ago (the peculiar smell coming from that section told her they probably wouldn’t be students for much longer).  Left with nothing to do but swim around in her thoughts, Jane threw her head back, a long sigh passing her lips. 

It had been a week since the news broadcast, and Jane hadn’t heard a peep from Loki.  She had to content herself with seeing his face on the cover of every single magazine from the tabloids to the serious stuff.  She’d had a good laugh at the latest Weekly World News, which had it that both Loki and his long lost real father were in fact blue aliens from another planet.  Keeping up their wonderful track record for respecting the privacy of celebrities, the media diligently recorded every moment of Loki’s life from the day of the announcement to now.  Pictures were taken of him exiting a Starbucks in sunglasses and a trench coat.  Where was he going?  What was he doing?  Had he met with Laufey yet?  Did he plan to?

No one knew the answers; Loki had yet to make an official statement.  The closest anyone had gotten was Thor Odinson outright refusing to answer any questions about his brother at the press conference for his latest match.  When one reporter tried to probe, Thor personally escorted the little man out, and for that, he had Jane’s respect.

Of course, none of it was a substitute for Loki just picking up the phone and calling her, letting her know that he hadn’t gone halfway around the world or done something drastic in his anger.  Jane didn’t doubt that he was angry about this.  It was more than just knowing him.  It was that she would feel the same way if she were him.  Most people would.  How he would express his anger was the question.  Tomorrow was Midgard Serpent’s long awaited Roxy performance.  Jane would be dreading the newspaper headlines for the day after.  Something bad was going to happen, she just knew it.

Horrible scenario after horrible scenario- each worse than the last- played through her mind.  Evidently she was a great deal more creative than she thought.  Nothing could stop it once it began, except for the shadow creeping over her, and the familiar suit and tie in the corner of her vision.

“I was hoping I’d find you here, Jane.”

She tried not to groan, or look too much like she wanted him to leave as Professor Selvig sat down.

“Your last report was fantastically done,” he said.  “You’re going to graduate top of the class for sure.”

“Aren’t professors not supposed to have favorites?” she asked with a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

“I think that only counts when the favorite isn’t really capable.” 

He laughed at his own joke, something that wasn’t uncommon, but also wasn’t what Jane needed to hear at the moment.  Most jokes weren’t so funny today.  As her head dropped to the table, Professor Selvig went silent, and it occurred to Jane that maybe she should have just pretended to laugh along.

“What’s wrong, Jane?” he asked, giving her an appraising look.  “You can’t look the way you do and be alright.”

“I’m fine,” she said, knowing Professor Selvig was about as likely to believe that as he would superheroes being real.  “I just…”

He gave her a look when she took too much time finishing her sentence.  His hand revolved as he egged her on.  It would be nice if some spotty face undergrad came rushing in right now to inform him that the lab was on fire or something.

“I have this… friend,” she said with great difficulty.  Professor Selvig raised an eyebrow.

“A friend?”.

“A  _real_ friend,” she said firmly.  “He’s someone I met a few weeks ago at this… event that I went to with Darcy.  We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and recently there was this big emergency situation with his family.  Now, I don’t know what I can do for him.  He won’t take my calls or anything.”

“Maybe he just wants to be alone,” Professor Selvig suggested.

“That’s what I thought at first,” Jane said, “but it’s been a week since I heard from him.  I’m getting really worried.”

“Have you tried going to visit him?”

“He won’t come to the door.”

“Wow,” said Professor Selvig with a sympathetic wince, “you’ve gotten yourself into a pickle with this friend of yours.”

“Tell me about it,” Jane said flatly.

She grabbed one of her books, just so she had something in her hands to keep her from picking at her nails or any other nasty childhood habit she hadn’t quite dropped.

“I will say one thing,” Professor Selvig spoke up, smiling warmly, “your friend is lucky that he has someone like you who cares about him so much.”

He placed a hand on hers, comforting her like a real parent. If Jane didn’t know he had no children of his own, she’d think he’d done this before. 

“Thanks, Professor Selvig,” she said, “I just wish I knew what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out, you’re not my smartest student for nothing.”

If he thought that was the key to cracking away at the sadness and bringing a smile to her face, he fell short of his goal.  Sometimes though, even the smallest confidence boost was enough to put one on the proper path.  Jane knew this as soon as the textbook slipped from her grasp and the music magazine she had underneath poked out at the corner.  The neon lights of the Roxy were on full display.

**

For once, the noise didn’t bother her, or maybe she was just immune by now.  Though rabid frat boys hollered like mad men and horny groupies swung their T-Shirts over their head, Jane saw and heard none of it.  She had her proverbial horse blinders on, and in the middle of the black hole they created was the stage, where the no-name opening act was just finishing their set.  The audience went wild as the final riff was released.  The band’s lead singer wiped sweat off his brow and thanked the crowd over and over again for their support.  Jane couldn’t help feeling a bit bad for him and how he tried to act like it was them everyone cheered for and not the fact that they were done.

The opening act walked off, blowing kisses to the crowd as they went.  Roadies came to remove and rearrange equipment for the main show to begin.  The fans were getting antsier the longer it took, and they were not shy about it.

Some of the less explicit jeers Jane picked up on involved which song they should open up with. That Love Cannon seemed to be the popular choice was not surprising, but Look to the Stars popped up more than once, and every time it did, Jane felt a growing hole in her stomach. 

At the tugging of her sleeve, Jane spared Darcy a sideways glance.  Her friend, though decked out in her heavy metal best, was not quite as eager for the show as she should have been.  In fact her general posture and tendency to check her watch and seek out the nearest exit left her more out of place than Jane had ever been.

“Dude, are you sure you want to be here right now?” she asked.  Someone whooped right in her ear, and Darcy threw what was left of her drink at them.  “I get that you’re worried about Silver and the fact that he hasn’t called since the news broke, but maybe you should give him some space.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Darcy,” Jane answered matter-of-factly.  “He hasn’t come over, he hasn’t called, who knows what he’s been doing since he found out about his family?  All I hear from the rest of the band or his brother on the news is ‘no comment.’  I’m sick of it!  If he’s not going to come to me, then I’m coming to him.  And his name is  _Loki_.”

Darcy flinched a little at the harshness of her final words.

“But these tickets don’t include backstage passes,” Darcy reminded her.  “I mean, I know you can’t expect much from scalpers, but Jane, this isn’t a very well-thought out plan.”

Jane rolled her eyes.  Admitting that Darcy was right about anything could be pretty annoying.  The problem right now was that she  _was_ right, but Jane didn’t have to concede to that.

“If nothing else, I want him to see me and know that I’m not going away.  He wants to be in my life?  Well, he’s got it.  This is for keeps now.”

“Then you probably should have brought a sign.” Darcy nodded at the girl closest to them, who sounded like nails on a chalkboard and waved a glitter pen MARRY ME FANDRAL sign that Jane was only just seeing for the first time.  No wonder Darcy gave her the stink eye when she first came in.

The lights dimmed to nothing, effectively squashing down conversation under shrieks of delight and anticipation.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Fandral’s low toned voice came through the speakers.  “Are you ready?”

The sign waving girl jerked around like someone having a seizure, screaming that she would  _always_  be ready for Fandral.

“No, she won’t,” Darcy snickered, and then she got serious.  “She really wouldn’t be, trust me.  He’d destroy a girl like that.”

“Is that him or you?”

Darcy weighed the two and couldn’t come up with an answer before Fandral started talking again.

“I can’t hear you…” he sang at them, and the audience proved one more time the sheer level of volume they could achieve if properly pushed (Jane was pretty sure an airplane taking off would be quieter at this point).

“Are you ready?”

“YEEEEEEEEES!” answered at least a thousand concert goers.

“Are you ready… to feel… my… LOVE CANNON!!”

The stage exploded with light and sound, the opening rift of Love Cannon soaring to all new heights and manipulating the crowd into a frenzy.  Jane pulled Darcy out of the way of a gathering mosh pit.  Usually, Darcy would join in on those, but Jane would be lying if she said she didn’t need a little support herself.  Finally seeing Loki at the other end of the stage only confirmed that.

Jane couldn’t properly describe to herself what she was seeing.  In the week since she’d seen him last, he looked to have lost a good ten pounds.  Of course, that could have always been the harsh lighting and the poor vantage point she had messing with her perception, but when someone is constantly appearing sans shirt, it’s hard not to memorize every line of their body, and Loki had never been a bulky man to begin with.  Then there was his playing.  Each note that came out of his guitar was perfectly timed and fiery as ever, but one look at his face and anyone could see that his heart wasn’t in it.

Loki stared straight ahead, far over the heads of the crowd.  Where Fandral and Sif took their turns at the spotlight- performing monstrous solos and high fiving random audience members- Loki was rooted to the spot, his arms the only part of him with kinetic energy.  He could have been a robot duplicate for all Jane knew, only capable of playing that guitar and devoid of all else that makes someone human, from the fluid energy to the presence of any emotion that anger.

Jane didn’t think she’d ever seen Loki like this.  His face was gaunt from lack of sleep, his mouth a hard line dipped into a frown.  His brow was all scrunched in between his eyes, which were unfocused and cold with dilated pupils.  What had he been doing before he came on stage, she wondered.  By the second song, his playing had become more erratic as well.  He never missed a note just hit them harder than he needed to.  A quieter, ballad-like song became ear meltingly powerful under his direction, and his bandmates noticed.  Sif and Hogun spent a good part of the third number staring at him, while Fandral worked his ass off keeping the crowd occupied with him and not them.

Among the many voices of fans that melded together in a pool of incomprehension, one rose above the rest.  Jane suddenly recalled one of Darcy’s ‘lessons’ in the days before that first concert.

“Most of the people are there because they love the band, but sometimes you get these dickwads who get off on ruining everyone else’s good time by complaining about everything as obnoxiously as they can until either the fans mob him or security tosses him out.  If you ever meet one of those guys, just throw something at him and run.  You’ll probably be okay.”

Jane didn’t think she’d be doing that…

“Oh my GOD this song is such SHIT MAN!  THE FUCK KIND OF METAL MUSIC IS THIS YOU PUSSY BITCHES?!”

…but it was becoming an attractive option.

The heckler in question was a skinny bearded man in a Poison t-shirt that had seen better days.  Aside from the beard, he was clean shaven, with brushed back brown hair and beady brown eyes.  In one had was an open, half full beer bottle, and as he vibrantly complained, booze was showered on the unsuspecting and equally as irate as Jane fans. 

“AND WHO THE FUCK PUTS FUCKING CHICKS IN THEIR BAND?  FUCKING GAY FAGS UP THERE!  HEY BITCH, WHY DON’T YOU COME DOWN HERE AND SUCK MY COCK?  DO SOMETHING USEFUL?”

Jane couldn’t tell if Sif was listening to the heckler or if she just couldn’t hear him.  For his sake, she hoped in was the latter.

“Is no one going to do something about this guy?” she wondered aloud.

“He’s doing it for attention, just ignore him,” said Darcy.

It was a decent enough idea, and maybe it would’ve worked if metal fans weren’t some of the touchiest people in the universe.

“Hey man, shut up!” one guy shouted at the heckler. 

“Yeah, fuck off and leave if you don’t like it,” said another.

“Why don’t you two fuck off?” answered the heckler.  “Go to the parking lot and suck each other’s dicks for money or whatever you shitheads do.  Get some better taste in music while you’re at it.”

“Alright you crazy little fuckers,” Fandral’s voice thankfully cut through the bullshit barrage, at least for the moment.  “I want you all to look up for a while because it’s time to Look to the Stars.”

Somehow, the thousands of cheers from adoring fans could not drown out the booing of one hater.  He cupped his hands and shouted as loud as he could, and even Fandral looked over at him for a second before getting right back into character just in time for the first verse.

Choosing to forget about the heckler, Jane forced the horse blinders back on.  She only saw Loki, watched him manually pick out the notes with even less movement now than before- only his wrists.  His head bent slightly under the weight of his intensifying stare.  Air went in and out of his nostrils like those of a bull ready to charge.  All he needed was a ticking clock sound effect and he’d be a literal time bomb.

“HEY JAP BOY!  REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR?  GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY, YOU ORIENTAL CUNTBAG!”

The heckler made himself known again with a sorry attempt at a war cry.  Hogun slammed on his drums like nothing had been said, ever the level-headed one of the group.  The placement of his middle finger on the drumsticks did become slightly questionable as he held them over his head and in the heckler’s direction.

“LOUSY FUCKS, DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLAY THOSE INSTRUMENTS?  HEY SILVERTONGUE!  WHAT’S THAT NAME MEAN?  YOU LIKE TONGUING DUDES IN THE BUTT, DON’T YOU?  FUCKING FAGGOT!”

The heckler threw his drink onto the stage at Loki’s feet.  The empty can rolled onto the toe of his boot and rested there.  Loki didn’t bother kicking it off.

“Oh  _god_ no,” Jane said to herself.  “Leave him alone…”

“HEARD YOU’RE DADDY’S A CONVICT NOW!  YOU A MAFIA FUCK NOW, SILVERPUSSY?”  The heckler laughed at his own joke, uncaring of the many fans that now looked ready to tear him limb from limb.  As Darcy might say, it was like his asshole powers had gotten to his head and made him think he was invincible.  On the stage, Loki just kept on playing.  “YOU’D ROBABLY BE SOME LOW LEVEL GRUNT MEAT SHIELD FOR THE COPS.  NOT FUCKING GOOD FOR PLAYING, SO YOU CAN’T BE GOOD FOR MUCH ELSE.  HEY, SHOULD I CALL YOU  _LAUFEYSON_  NOW?”

Loki stopped playing.

The abrupt cut-off of guitar right in the middle of the bridge meant that only the drums were still going.  Sif was shouting at Loki, her head turned so Jane couldn’t see, but Loki was shaking now, eyes widening with something deep and primal that chilled Jane to the core.  In a matter of seconds, Loki had shed the guitar.  It crashed to the hard surface and released several sparks as it broke.  Stalking across the stage, fans gathered en masse with their arms outstretched, but Loki evaded them as he jumped into the crowd and landed on his feet.  He waded through the wild pit of bodies, all desperate to get their hands on him, if only for a second.

“Oh no…” Jane said as Loki zeroed in on the heckler.  The idiot had at least enough brains to understand that he’d just signed his own death sentence before his executioner threw the first punch.

Loki leapt at him, delivering a solid blow to the man’s nose.  A sickening crack snapped through the air and preceded the heckler’s hard fall to the ground, with Loki relentlessly beating him the entire way down.  Jane’s legs moved on their own, her ears shutting out Darcy’s cries for her to stay where she was.  Loki’s name ripped from her mouth so many times that it stopped sounding like a name.  A crowd of fans had formed a circle around the fight- if something so one-sided could even be called that.  Over the noise, Jane could hear flesh pounding on flesh, and the heckler’s cries for help were met with more cheering.

“Excuse me,” Jane said, squeezing through a pair of burly men who happened to be standing next to each other.  She couldn’t breathe again until she got past them, but the air continued to smell of sweat.  “Excuse me, pardon me.  Excuse m-  _move!_ ”

She pushed aside everyone she had to on her way to the front.  Loki was sitting on top of the heckler, his t-shirt bunched up in Loki’s fingers as he beat the unfortunate man bloody.  He was no longer screaming, having long ago lost consciousness.  A bouncer had also gotten through the crowd and worked to pull Loki off of the man.  For his efforts, he received a fist to his gut and another to the face.  Loki kicked his fat body aside and grabbed the heckler again, pulling him into a standing position.

“LOKI!”  Jane shouted at the top of her lungs. “LOKI, STOP!  YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!”

She ran to him.  In her right mind she would have been going far in the other direction, or at least just staying put.  If a man twice Loki’s size couldn’t stop him, she didn’t have a prayer.  Nevertheless, her hands met the heated skin of his side, pushing him off the heckler, but at the cost of her footing.  She started to fall- the dirty concrete floors didn’t have long to call to her before she was grabbed in mid-air. Loki held her by the collar.  Jane’s relief disappeared when he raised his fist, staring blindly down at her and seeing only another opponent.  Biting back a gasp, Jane screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for a blow that never came.  All she heard was a choked sob before Loki’s grip slackened.  She looked again to see his rage melt away, and undiluted horror took its place as he came back to himself, and the weight of what he had almost done hit full force. 

“Ah-“ his throat closed up, leaving him unable to speak, breathe or anything else except turn and run.

“Wait, Loki!”

Jane started after him, but unlike before, the crowd was not so eager to give up their spots.  The recovered bouncer had the boneless heckler over his shoulder, and the crowd parted for him, throwing empty drink cups and candy wrappers and the heckler’s lolling head.  Jane seized the opportunity, following the large man out of the suffocating heat of too many people crushed together in one room.  The rest of the band had long ago walked off stage, and the fans were making their disappointment known, loudly and violently.  Jane found an empty spot away from the madness, and from there she could see Loki’s hair whipping around his shoulders as he disappeared out the back entrance.

**

Jane pressed her ear to the door.  Finding a section that didn’t have splinters was an adventure in and of itself.  She took care not to touch the door, even if it would enable her to get closer.  As it was, she could hear nothing, and she had a sinking suspicion nothing would change that except opening the door.

“Loki?” she called out for the third time.  Like the other two times, she got no answer.  The first time, she thought she heard something like pieces of cloth rubbing against each other, something that in the end, didn’t tell her anything.  “Loki, please open the door.”

“Leave me alone.”

Hearing his voice was somewhat alleviating.  At least he hadn’t done anything stupid just yet.  Jane knocked one more time.  Doing more didn’t feel right.

“Loki, it’s me, Jane.”

“Leave me alone, Jane.”

She cast a helpless glance at all the assembled band members and friends, and only the bodyguard, Volstagg, provided something resembling help when he waved her on with an encouraging smile.  According to Fandral, Volstagg was another childhood friend of theirs whom they were happy to bring along with them on the road to fame and fortune, even if music wasn’t his thing.  He was a great friend and a scary bodyguard, even though in reality he was a sweet family man who wouldn’t hurt a fly if it didn’t attack first.  He certainly looked like a parent right now, the way he needed no words to make her feel at least a little better.  Who knows what _her_ dad would have said about this.

 _‘Tell Professor Selvig and see how he reacts,’_  said her annoying inner voice.   _‘Mom always said the two of them were like peas in a pod.’_

Jane twisted the knob.  It was no secret that the door had no lock.  She only stayed outside this long out of courtesy.  No point in taking that route anymore if all it led her to was a brick wall.

The room was dimly lit by a pair of wall lamps.  His candles were nowhere to be found.  He’d done nothing to turn this room into his own for the night.  His guitar from that night’s show was in its case, open to reveal a few scuff marks and a broken string.  Loki himself had his long body draped over the couch, his legs hanging over the footrest.  He stared off and away from her, but Jane was not about to let him pretend he didn’t see her.

“Loki?”

He slowly lifted his head, and his eyes alone made Jane want to cry.

“You really don’t listen, do you?”

She shook her head, smiling an empty smile.

“No, I’m really bad at that.”

He looked away again, this time with his hand over his face.  He looked like a dramatic teenager throwing a temper tantrum.  Jane was torn between asking more questions and waiting for him to suddenly burst into some middle school level bad poetry.  She took the seat next to the couch.  It sagged under her weight and stretched her back uncomfortably, but she endured.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His arm slid back to his side and he laughed dryly.  Jane lowered her eyes as he went on.  And she used to think nothing would ever be as awkward between them as their first meeting. 

“Talk about what?” he asked back.  “What do you think you can say that can fix this?”

“There’s nothing I can say,” she answered honestly, “but I can listen.”

“You want to listen, hmm?” he clapped his hands together and sat up, a hateful grin distorting his features.  “You want to sit here and listen to me talk all about how my whole life is a lie?”

He took to walking around the room, staying noticeably far from her even as his eyes remained locked on her figure. 

“You want me to open my heart to you can let all fall on the ground like a net of dead fish?  You want to know how it feels to have a fake family who pretends that they love you, that you are one of their own, when they really just wanted to assuage their consciences and taken in the poor pathetic son of a monster?  IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!”

He took one of the lamps and hurled it to the ground.  The bulb popped, plunging his half of the room in darkness.  He existed as a shadowed form of himself until he found the couch again and held onto it for support.  His chest heaved in and out as he blinked his eyes furiously, but no matter how hard he tried, she could see them shining.

“That’s not true,” she murmured.

His head snapped to her.  “What was that?”

Jane took a deep breath, telling herself that she wasn’t afraid of him.  She really wasn’t, but when he looked the way he did now, it was good to have a reminder.

“Loki, your family loves you,” she said, pronouncing each word carefully as they came to her.  She was doing it.  She was being the ‘advice giver.’  This had the potential to go very, very badly, but she couldn’t stop now.  “I mean, I only met your mother, but she pretty obviously adores you.  I can’t believe the rest of your family feels any different.”

“That’s because you haven’t met them,” Loki spat out, his head shaking continuously and furiously.  “You know, there are so many things that make sense now.  Why I was never good enough, why Thor’s achievements always took precedence over mine- you know when I first got into Cambridge, Odin gave me a firm handshake and a few hundred dollars for books.  When Thor won his first community college boxing match?  He got a fuckin’  _house party,_ and father went on about it for weeks to all his friends!  Never once felt the need to mention that he had another son who’d gotten into one of the best bloody Universities in Britain.  Of course not, because that wasn’t  _Thor’s_  accomplishment, just the little orphan boy he picked up. Who cares?!”

“Loki-“

“Oh that’s not all, don’t think it is.  I’m not so vindictive that I would be like this over a single slight.  No, I was always second best.  Thor was the golden child.  Thor was the perfect one everyone loved.  It was like that for everyone, Odin, Frigga our-  _his_  extended family, our friends...  In fact, if Thor had any talent at all with the guitar, you can bet I’d be out on the curb in an instant.”

“Loki, you know that isn’t true!” Jane shouted over him.  She’d been waiting for him to say something that would give her an excuse to interrupt.  If she had to listen to him spewing poison anymore, she might’ve cracked.  “Do you know that your friends are out there right now waiting for you to come out?  They are so worried about you right now, Loki, and it’s because they  _love_  you.  Your family loves you too.  They never would have taken you in if they didn’t.  And I don’t know your dad or why he does the things he does or why they never told you the truth, but I know that he loves you too.  Do you really think he’s at home right now dancing and waving flags because he doesn’t have to  _pretend_  to care about you anymore?  Do you think your mother is doing that?”

He flinched at the mention of Frigga.  Everything else, he took in stride, showing no signs of stopping her or walking away, but Frigga was his weakness, and she knew it.  Exploiting it may have been wrong, but dammit he needed this right now.  He needed to hear her say it.

“And I’m not walking out of here until I make you understand that.”

He stared down at her.  She would hold his face if it meant keeping it that way.  She watched the rage and the pain dull down, never leaving, but not controlling him either.  He shifted between his feet, slower when their hands brush.

“I almost hit you,” he whispered, running his thumb gently over her thin fingers.

“It was an accident,” Jane said.  “I shouldn’t have come up behind you like that when everything was so crazy.”

“That doesn’t change what happened,” he said dispassionately.  “If it’d taken me one more second to recognize you…”

He started to turn away, and Jane pulled him back, holding him with strength she didn’t even know she possessed. 

“Hey, don’t think about that,” she said- demanded really.  “I told you, I’m not mad.  I’ve seen your baby pictures, Loki.  I am well beyond being afraid of you.”

His mouth twitched.  If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was almost a smile.

“Suppose I should have expected that from you,” he said.  “You surprise me more and more every time we meet.”

She leaned into his hand on her cheek, and took the next step by walking into his embrace. 

“Right back ‘atcha,” she said.

She hugged him tighter than he did her. His arms were loose enough that a gentle breeze could’ve blown them apart.  What happened must’ve really gotten to him, and it seemed Jane’s well of words had dried up, leaving her lip-locked.  He let go far too sooner, but then, she didn’t think she’d ever want him to let go.

“Jane, I think I should be alone for a while.”

She’d been stubbornly hanging on to him, even as his attempts to push her off went from quiet to overt.  When he said that, she flew away from him, a thousand more words overflowing the well, and he stopped them all with a finger to her lips.

“I have heard you,” he said, taking a deep breath as if swallowing back how he still felt.  “I… thank you for caring so much for my well-being.  I really appreciate it… but I need time to come to terms with what’s happening, and think about what I’m going to do next.”

She gave him a look.  “Is that all?”

And he gave her one right back.  “I really am thankful for this, Jane.  I’m not trying to drive you away.  I’m just asking you to give me some space.  It’s only temporary.”

Jane thought about that.  She understood what he was saying, and she related.  When her parents died, she’d been bombarded with well-meaning but misguided people who thought all she needed was to talk about it.  Maybe that worked for some people, but not for her.  In the end, she hadn’t been any less devastated, she just added smothered to the list.  Loki was the same way, it seemed.

She reconciled this with herself, at least for now, and even then she jab a finger into his chest a few times.

“I want to hear from you as soon as possible,” she said.  “Don’t shut me out.  If you take too long, I  _will_  come looking for you.  That’s a promise.”

His mouth twitched again, so close this time, Jane could almost taste that strange and beautiful smile of his.

“Until next time then,” he said.

Jane found herself next to the door, not knowing when she got there.  He stayed where he was, hands in the pockets of leather pants that looked painted on.  Her heart was racing, spreading adrenaline though her body and making it scream at her.  It told her stay, there was more to do here; go back in there and jump into his arms, stay until the pain disappeared and the tears were spent, until he could be happy again, and then they would both be happy.  It was with greater difficultly than she ever could have imagined that she walked away.

“Until next time…”

**

“So tell me Jane, have you always been clinically insane, or is this a new thing?  Like I’ve created a monster or something?”

Jane dropped the newspaper over her face, getting a more up close look at Reagan’s face than she ever wanted.  “I don’t want to hear it, Darcy.”

A bottle cap popped off and bounced noisily on the coffee table.  The next pair of thuds could have only been Darcy’s feet, which to her credit were bare.  Unfortunately, that was all Jane was willing to give her when she was acting like this.

“I need to know, Jane, because at this point, I should ban you from concerts until you’ve developed some self-preservation skills.”

“Nothing happened!” Jane cried, throwing the paper aside.  “Dammit, Darcy!  I don’t need this right now.  You know Loki would never hurt me and he didn’t.”

“I’m not talking about Loki, I mean- in  _general._   Come on, Jane you’ve said it yourself.  All of these guys are crazy, and if you get a bunch of crazy people together in one room and then rile them up… well, we’re just lucky the bouncers got everything under control before a full-blown riot could start!”

Jane changed positions on the couch.  If she was going to lie there all day like she planned, she didn’t need to lose the use of her legs in the process.  A long, loud moan went on to the point of Darcy timing her, though Jane never got to hear what her time was.

“Jane, just tell me-“ Darcy crawled on her knees to kneel over her, paying no mind to her hair tickling Jane’s nose and cheeks.  “Just tell me what you were thinking!”

Jane closed her eyes.  Realistically, pretending to fall asleep wasn’t going to work out, not in so little time.  Darcy would probably time how long it took her to stop trying too.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you,” she said, looking off into the distance, “I’ve spent all this time worrying about him, hoping that he’s okay.  I mean- isn’t this how it works?  What would you do if it was Fandral?”

“That’s different,” Darcy said before shaking her head.  “I mean it’s  _not_ different- or it is- it’s just that- you know, we have fun together sure but… come on Jane, let’s be real.  These guys aren’t exactly serious relationship material.  Fandral and I are just having fun!  That’s- that’s all it is, right…?”

Jane couldn’t answer that.  It would either be a lie or a truth she wasn’t ready to admit yet.  It was plain as day anyway, and Darcy’s body went limp as she fell backwards, burying herself in the cushions.

“My God, you’ve got it  _so bad_.”

Jane’s eyes lingered on the overturned newspaper, with Loki’s face plastered beneath the ‘ROCKER JUMPS OFF STAGE; ATTACKS FAN’ headline.  A candid shot showed him mid ‘attack,’ and not even the poor quality of the snapshot could hide the pain.

**

Against expectations, Loki was not headline news for much longer.  Just a few nights later, someone in Chicago hijacked a CBS broadcast, and suddenly  _that_ was everyone’s top story.  The breakdown of one more rockstar took a backseat.

She appreciated it to some degree.  At least now maybe he could get a little breathing room.  On the other hand, none of the newspapers she combed through told her anything more than she already knew.  It was an education on the presence of yellow journalism, even from so-called reputable sources.  The one paragraph blurbs changed every time she read them, from Loki having beaten the man literally to death, to him throwing the man to his devoted and bloodthirsty fanbase to be ripped apart, to using him as a sacrifice to the Norse God he was named for. 

Soon enough, those stories burned out with the rest.  Now Jane’s only source of information was the unofficial school Midgard Serpent fanclub, who spent far more time head-banging than they did discussing the personal lives of the band members.  Jane hung around outside their club room two days in a row before realizing it was fruitless.

Weeks went by with nothing.  New homework assignments pulled her away from pointless worrying, and it was a good thing too.  One pop quiz managed to come back with a C plus grade, and Jane had a field day trying to write that one off to Professor Selvig as a bad night’s sleep and a migraine.  She kicked herself in the ass after that one, remembered the life of her own that she had to live and the goals she was working towards.  Homework became more of an escape than it had ever been.  For a time, she could even forget the number of days since the Roxy.  It became a month to the day.  Nothing had happened, and so she just plowed through her winter courses and dominated the final exam.

Darcy, having chosen to take the month off, was surprisingly less of a distraction than Jane expected.  If she wasn’t off with her friends, she was going out with Fandral to whatever part of the state he felt like flying to.  He came over a few times, and Jane stayed upstairs for most of them.  She feared that she would ask about Loki if she did, that she wouldn’t be able to let up until he gave her something,  _anything_.  Then she would have to call him.  She’d be too excited and too anxious to stop herself.  That wasn’t what he needed right now, and as long as there were no more fights and no more headlines, Jane was going to stick to that if it killed her.

Christmastime came in a flash of snow and light.  Darcy went all out with the tree this year, and Jane took some time to help her.  She’d always been fairly neutral towards holidays, having no one to really celebrate them with.  The happiness of other people affected her, making her feel a little happy even after she found out she’d be spending Christmas Day by herself.

Not that Darcy hadn’t tried to convince Jane to come along; she was still trying on the 21st, while Fandral waited outside to take her to whatever hotel he had booked.  The part of her that wondered if Loki would be there was squelched and Jane saw them off with a smile and a ‘Merry Christmas.’  She kept waving and smiling until the limousine was out of sight.

Darcy called her every day to relate whatever amazing exploit she’d gotten into (“Dude, I was totally talking to Slash!   _The_  Slash, can you believe it?!  I mean he was completely wasted and he kept calling me Gary, but  _man_  it was awesome!”).  Sometimes, she called twice a day.  Sometimes, like on the 23rd, in the middle of the night when Jane was trying to sleep.

“So there’s a bunch of guys here right now, and they’re all off doing drugs or something.  Fandral went to get us some food, so he’ll be back later.  I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

Jane fought to keep her eyes open, using up the energy she would have spent answering Darcy and forcing her to wait.

“I’d be great if I was still sleeping.  What could you possibly eat at this time of night anyway?”

“Denny’s.   _Duh_.”

“Right,” Jane said, rubbing one eye furiously and then the other, “why didn’t I think of that?”

Darcy laughed on the other end, taking enough time to calm down that Jane could infer she’d been drinking a little more than the one beer she always claimed to have.  Jane sat up fully in her chair, giving the pantry a cursory glance for some kind of midnight snack.

“So what else is going on out there?” she asked.  “Have you seen Loki at all?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about him.”

“I’m half asleep right now, Darcy.  Just tell me before I wake up for real and start caring again.”

She heard a clicking of Darcy’s tongue and the shifting of her changing hands. 

“Well, he was around for a while earlier today.  He didn’t say much, he just drank a lot.  Some guy kept trying to talk to him- I think he was a drug dealer because he was talking about ‘fixing’ him, if you catch my drift.  Anyway, Loki left when he wouldn’t let up.  I don’t know, maybe he was worried he’d be driven to a repeat performance from the Roxy.  After that, I guess he went back to the hotel-“

Her sudden pause was not a mystery to Jane, at least not the cause of it.  The sounds of sirens and doors slamming and a very distinct voice screaming, ‘He’s dead!  He’s dead!’ again and again gave her a good idea.

“Darcy, what’s going on?” Jane demanded, and now she was wide awake.

“I don’t know.  I’ve been up here for an hour, I haven’t been with any of the guys.  Hang on, I can’t see anything out the window- wait, is that an ambulance?”

“What?” Jane shouted in the receiver.  “Darcy, what are you talking about?  Why is there an ambulance?”

Her answer was silence from Darcy, but enough background noise to fill her nightmares for weeks to come.  More people were shouting.  The sirens were getting louder.  Someone was breaking a window, and all the while Jane could only envision a lifeless green eyed man in a pool of blood.

“Darcy, is it Loki?” she held the receiver so tight that she felt the plastic bend.  “Did something happen to Loki?  Answer me!”

But all she heard was a click, followed by heart-rending beep.  Jane dropped the receiver and let it hang in mid-air.  She sat at the kitchen table listening to the dial tone until the sun came up.

The next day’s headlines were all about the bassist of a completely different band being revived from the dead in an ambulance following a heroin overdose. 

**

On New Year’s Eve, Jane finally lost it.

Maybe it was the length of time since she’d last seen him.  Maybe it was the shock of Christmas Eve taking it’s time to wear off.  Either way, Jane was done waiting.

She came to that conclusion during lunch, listening to Darcy rave about the awesome weekend she had, intercut with fervent apologies for leaving her hanging like that, and something about a serious talk she’d had with Fandral about whatever.  While she was trying to figure out which she wanted to hear less, Jane slammed her salad fork down on the table.

“I’m going out.”

“What?”  Darcy got up as well, but Jane was at the front door, putting on her coat before she could ask one question.

Loki’s current residence was a five star hotel near the coastline.  It occurred to Jane as she sat in the parking lot going through some mental prep that she’d never seen the inside of Loki’s real home.  According to Fandral (as Darcy related to her), he’d had a massive blow up with his parents the day the test results came in and basically ran away from home afterwards.  That his apartment was twenty miles away didn’t matter. If he didn’t want to be reached, then he wouldn’t be reached.

Armed with nothing but a confident stride and a tiny slip of paper with his room number on it, Jane crossed the hotel lobby, unseen by the harried manager as he dealt with a pair of guests complaining about the water temperature in their room. An elevator took her to the third highest floor and into one of the longest hallways Jane had ever seen.  She shied away from going further. Ever since Darcy made her sit through a showing of The Shining, hotels gave her the creeps.  Looking both ways, the only potentially threat was a pile of ruined sheets sitting next to one of the doors.  Why it was there, she couldn’t say, but at least it wasn’t Jack Nicholson wielding an axe.

Starting down that side, Jane read off the room numbers.  965… 967… 969…

She checked the paper one more time.  981 was the room she was looking for. 

Jane looked up and slowed her pace.  Leaning over to read, she could see 981 clearly now.  It was the room with the pile of sheets in front of it.

As Jane took tentative steps forward, the dirty sheets looked more and more like the shiny silver fabric of a suit jack with a red shirt underneath.  A pair of black blobs became shoes, and then the pile jerked forward, and let out a groan.

Jane gasped and dropped her purse, and the echoing thud had the man turning to her.  Blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes framed by a handsome, breaded face met her.  The man got up, towering over her even more than Loki did.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said with a deep voice.  “You must be Jane Foster.”

Jane took his hand once her nerves calmed down a little, shaking it firmly.

“And unless I’m mistaken,” she said, “you’re Loki’s brother.”

**

The man in the white paper cap handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate.  Jane blew on it, breaking the steady rise of steam as Thor handed the man five dollars. 

How she had gone from standing outside Loki’s hotel room with his older brother to sharing hot chocolate on a cold December night with his older brother, she didn’t know.  She found the corner table empty, save for some nearby carolers belting out ‘Here we come a wassailing.’ Jane dropped a few quarters in their jar and Thor gave a few more when he joined her.

“I’m sorry Loki wouldn’t come to the door,” Thor said, blowing on his mug in turn.

Jane shrugged.  “Not like I expected him to, but it never hurts to try, right?”

Thor sighed.  “I suppose not.”  He poured a little cream into his mug, stirring lightly.  “He talks about you often, you know.”

Jane swallowed back some of her drink the wrong way, but avoided coughing by some miracle.

“He- he does?”

Thor laughed, oddly cheerful for all the melancholy hovering over them. 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, “You’ve made quite an impression on him.  It reminds me of when I proposed to Sif.  For days after, she was all I could talk about.  I’ll admit I may have overdone it a little, even my trainer was sick of hearing her name.  By the time of the wedding, Loki was threatening to step down as my Best Man if I didn’t shut up.  I said to him, ‘Brother, someday you will find a woman who brings you all the joy that Sif brings me, and all of those songs you write are going to be about her.  Then you’ll understand.’”

Thor finished the recollection with a wistful stare and a gulp of what remained in his mug.  Jane looked down at hers, surprised to see how much hot chocolate she’d consumed already.  No wonder she was getting warmer.

“So what?” she asked like it was a joke.  “You think I’m that woman?”

She laughed it off at once, but then Thor gave her the most serious look she had seen from him so far, and placed his hand on hers.  There was nothing funny about that.

“Frankly, Jane?  I do.”

He looked in her eyes, and her defenses crumbled.  They were weak as it was, but with such simple words, Thor demolished them.  What remained were things she still wasn’t ready to deal with, but time to avoid them had passed. 

Jane’s mug was empty now, and she was going to need another drink soon.  The air was getting colder.


	6. Rock You Like a Hurricane

1988 arrived with a bang, but not a kiss.  Jane had to settle for a hug from the brother of the man she wanted to be here with.  Fireworks created a perfect backdrop for the moment it could have been.  Instead it was for all the real couples hanging around, locked in passionate embraces.  Their happiness was theirs and their alone, with no outside intent, but in her jaded state, Jane had to see them as obnoxiously mocking her.

The one good thing about it was Thor’s eagerness to leave that matched her own.  She bade him goodnight in the parking lot, with a handshake and a ‘good to finally meet you’ and a ‘say hi to Sif for me.’  He never mentioned Loki again, and Jane couldn’t have appreciated it more.  She had enough fuel for a week of sleepless nights.

Back home, Jane walked in to find Darcy on the couch.  That she wasn’t in bed was unsurprising; it was that she was here at all.  Jane could’ve sworn Darcy had been talking about going somewhere with Vince and all those other crazy friends of hers to celebrate.  Jane sniffed the air, unable to detect a hint of smoke or alcohol.  It was safe to say that Darcy hadn’t been anywhere today.

“Hi Jane!  Home already?”

Jane checked the locks on the door and closed the curtains, shutting out the noise from the next door neighbor’s New Year’s Eve party.  She eyed the coffee table and the coaster Darcy had her drink on and inspected the couch under her boots for dirt stains.  What had her caring about all these miniscule things, she couldn’t explain.  She was aware of everything tonight, every little action she took for granted on better days.  After ensuring that her snowshoes were perfectly in line next to the door, Jane pushed Darcy’s feet aside to make some room. 

“You know, there _is_ a chair here,” Darcy said, flinging a popcorn kernel at Jane’s head.

“It has a spring that’s broken or something… so what did you and Fandral talk about?” she asked, not really wanting to know, but wanting to be rid of that chewing more than anything.

“What?” Darcy asked.

Jane shook her head.  “Earlier today, you were saying something about Fandral.  That you were talking about something or other…?”

“Oh, you mean back when you walked out of the house with no explanation and didn’t come back for eight hours?”

Jane started to answer, then did a double take.  Had she really been gone for that long?

Brushing it aside, Jane nodded, egging Darcy on.  The girl put aside her popcorn bowl (Jane could’ve kissed her for that alone).

“Basically… I’d been thinking a lot about what you said,” she rolled her shoulders.  “About where we’re going with this whole ‘dating rockstars’ thing… I meant what I said before, about them not typically being the ones you want to bring home to mom, but I wanted to know just how far he was willing to take this, and it turns out he’s no more decisive on the matter than I am, so at least we’re on the same page.”

She grabbed her drink and chugged it down.  The sound of the straw was slightly less unpleasant than that of the popcorn.

“And did I tell you that he was introducing me to people as ‘his girl’ over Christmas?” Darcy smirked.  “Because he was, and I know it was mostly to make sure they all knew not to try and come on to me, but I actually kind of liked it.  Not in a ‘oh he’s so famous and a famous person likes me’ kind of way either.  More like a… I don’t know, ‘I just plain really like this guy and want this to last’ kind of way.  Like, am I making any sense at all?”

Jane shrugged, the non-committal gesture striking a particularly bad chord with Darcy if her answering scowl and turning away from Jane meant anything.

“I’m guessing you’re still in the angst-y brooding stage of separation,” she huffed.

Jane went up to bed shortly after, but the quiet and the darkness did little to relax her.  Her sleep was troubled by the voice of Thor running circles around her, repeating words that meshed and mingled and yet somehow, never lost their meaning.

_‘Frankly Jane, I do.’_

Well, that made one of them.

**

Before they separated for the night, Thor explained that he had to attend a family event with Sif to attend for New Year’s Day, and packing for a trip to start on.  That was why they’d have to wait until the next day to go back to the hotel, and why Jane hoped that Thor would forgive her for this.

She drove back the next morning, after forcing a decent sized breakfast down her throat and telling Darcy not to wait up for her.  She ignored the heaviness of her eyes, this was too important.  The nearest Starbucks provided her with all that she needed to get through a twenty minute traffic jam and race the rest of the way to the hotel.  She counted to 981 on the top floor.  A few times, she needed to stop and breathe.  Her caffeine induced buzz was slipping away from her little by little.

 _‘I knew I should have gotten the large,’_ she thought.

Nothing had changed about Loki’s door when she got to it, except there was no Thor sleeping outside.  Jane tried the handle first.  She knew it wouldn’t work, but she wanted to cover her bases.  Worst-case scenario, she could go to the front desk and tell them she was a concerned friend coming to visit; see if they would hand over a key or even wait to hear the whole story before calling security.

“Loki?” She called out.  Nothing stirred from within.  “Loki?”

Jane knocked twice, hard.

“It’s me, Jane.  Can you hear me?” She tried to sound more concerned than desperate, but it wasn’t working.  “I told you I was going to come looking for you if you took too long, and as you can see, I keep my promises.  Now I’m not leaving until you open this door and let me in, you hear me?”

She knocked a third time, though at this point, it was less like knocking and more like weak tapping.  Her strength was leaving her fast.  Her knees caved in, and she slid to the ground with her head on the wall.  It was a far more comfortable position than she could have ever imagined.  She even felt better than she had last night in bed, and she really was tired…

**

She was surrounded by soft, cushiony warmth, reveling in the feel silky sheets and one of the most comfortable pillows she’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on.  Turning this way and that, Jane unleashed a happy sigh cut short by memories of where she was.  She gasped, twisting around in sheets that felt like snakes squeezing her torso.  Getting free, Jane fell off the bed and slid on her behind to the wall.  She was first happy to see that her clothes were still on, right down to the shoes on her feet.  She was in a spacious hotel suite.  A luxurious bathroom could be seen through a wide open door next to the kitchenette. Marble flooring led to an enormous Jacuzzi tub, the kind of couples wanting a romantic interlude.  On one side was a mini-bar that looked like it had been hit by a hurricane, but other than that the room was immaculate.  All the welcome cards were in place and the coffee machine was untouched.  The TV in the far corner was turned on and muted on a new episode of Headbanger’s Ball.  There was a fake potted plant beside it, overturned for no discernible reason.  Loki could have walked into it one day by mistake and never bothered to pick it up.  A new guitar was propped up next to the bed, looking shiny and new, not a string out of place.  There was something wrong with the image that Jane couldn’t pinpoint.

Loki himself was on the balcony.  The curtains were parted to reveal him in all his glory.  His leather pants hung loose on his hips, and he wore nothing else.  The sharp plains of his shoulders and back were hard to ignore, even within the flurry of yesterday and today’s events.  He had his back to her, looking out on the view of the city.  There was a chaise with some ruffled blankets and a pillow, both thin and stained.  They couldn’t possibly be hotel-issued. 

Jane’s jaw fell.  How he could have known was a mystery, but he turned right around and walked inside, looking no worse for the wear.

“Finally up?” he asked.

But Jane couldn’t only think about that deck chair.   “Have you been sleeping out there?  _In winter?”_

“It’s just precaution,” he said.  “I didn’t know if you’d be awake before nighttime.”

“But you were still standing out there.  Dressed like _that_.”

Loki crossed his arms.  If it was meant to distract her, it wasn’t working (well maybe a little).

“I don’t mind the cold,” he said, and he would say no more on the subject.

He entered the kitchen area.  Pushing aside an empty cocktail glass, Loki grabbed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey from the top cabinet and drank what remained in one gulp.  He grimaced as he checked the label.

“Warm...” he said to himself, smacking his lips.  “Disgusting…”

Jane followed him for just a few steps, her hands going deep into her pockets.

“So… how are you doing?” she asked.

“Fine.”

Jane bit her lip, her mind in such a tizzy that she was liable to blurt out the next stupid thing that came to her.  In an effort to avoid that, Jane took her time going further, not that it helped.  The lines of communication were falling deader than they’d been for the past month and a half.

“I uh… I heard about your friend, he one who had the overdose.”

“Nikki?” Loki sounded like he was going to laugh, but Jane never heard it.  “I suppose everyone has.”

“Is he alright?”

Loki shook the bottle, but nothing more would come from it, and he threw it aside.

“He left the hospital as soon as he woke up, went home and started shooting up again.  At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Even if Jane wanted to, she wouldn’t know how to respond to that.  Shaking her head, she turned to what had been on her mind since she woke up.

“Why did you bring me in?”

“Because you were alone,” he said, searching the rest of the cabinets for another drink.  “I can’t leave you sleeping in a deserted hallway.”

“You left Thor.”

“Thor is a boxer, and you’re not,” he then cursed under his breath as the final cabinet turned up empty, leaving him without a drop of booze.  “Also, Thor has a skull made of titanium alloy, so nothing can harm him anyway.”

Jane smiled, but didn’t laugh.  She sat at the foot the bed.  It sagged at the corners and didn’t feel nearly as comfortable without sleep to cloud her perceptions. 

“Did you have a nice night with him?”

The question caught Jane off guard.  She didn’t know what he meant for a moment and apparently that was long enough for Loki to go from inquisitive to downright bitter in the way he looked at her.

“You mean me and Thor?” she inched a fraction to the left, out of his piercing gaze.  “We got some hot chocolate and talked about you.  He’s really worried, you know.”

She looked at him expectantly, and he kept still and silent, running his finger around the edge of the whiskey bottle, a never-ending circle.

“Why do you ask?” she got up and moved away from the bed, towards him. “Don’t tell me you feel threatened by that.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone found his company preferable to mine.”

“Loki, get real,” Jane was really laughing now, much to his consternation.  “The man is happily married, not to mention your brother.  Do you really that he’d- that I’d-  I can’t even believe you’d think that.  Now I know your self-esteem hasn’t plunged that far.”

He pursed his lips, looking away from Jane so she could only catch one side of his tight-lipped smile.

“I suppose you’re right.”

He returned to the threshold of the balcony, stopping short of walking outside.  It enabled Jane to go after him without fear of the cold.  She pressed herself against his back, her arms wrapping around his slim waist and holding steady.  Her forwardness couldn’t have been more of a shock to him than it was for her, but as the rational need to move off of him and pretend it never happened died an ignoble death, Jane thought that there was no better way she could have approached him.   Everything about it, from the feel of his abs to the way he placed his hands over hers to hold her there, was just so very right.

Standing on her tip-toes, Jane’s chin rested on his shoulder.  His neck and hair smelled vaguely of hotel shampoo.

“So what now?” she asked softly.  “Can we finally declare the exile over?”

Loki heaved a sigh. “I don’t know.”

Jane frowned, coming around to intertwine their fingers.

“You can’t lock yourself up forever,” she said.  “Thor will be back tomorrow, and I have it on good authority that he’ll bring the rest of the band and your parents if he has to.”

Loki rolled his eyes, earning a glare from Jane.  She received a cocky little smile in turn that didn’t anger her one little bit.  Any sign of his regular ass of a self was something to celebrate.

“ _I_ won’t let you shut the world out,” she said, looking deep into his eyes.  “That’s the truth of it.”

Loki nodded, humming lightly.  “I could expect nothing less of you.”

Jane released his hand.  It fell next upon his guitar, stroking the neck for him to see and watch intently.

“Play me something?”

His long legs carried him to her in two strides.  His hand on her chin tilted her head up.  She acquiesced willingly, though more than a little self-conscious about the heat of her skin.  But really, she was beyond that with him at this point, wasn’t she?

“I would love to,” he said sensually in her ear, “but if I’m to rejoin the world, there’s something I must do first.”

**

The car pulled up in front of the jailhouse.  It was an ugly building, not that one could expect attractiveness from the home of criminals.  Built with brick, it was beige in color, the paint looking newly applied and no more appealing for it.  What windows there were had multiple cracks and scratches.  At least one had backwards dirty language and pictures partially wiped away.  The grass at the front of the building was mowed neatly down, but the sides and back where a mess of weeds.  Having grown up significantly more well off than most in the metal community, the sight of it left a bad taste in Loki’s mouth, one dwarfed by the thought of actually entering the building. 

Jane stopped at the sidewalk leading to the main entrance.  A few guards were inside with their backs to them.  The glare of the sun on the glass prevented Loki from making out any features.  He leaned back, his body pushing the seat as far as it would go.  It creaked ominously when he pushed further.  He swallowed back a weight that was building in his throat.  It didn’t work the first time, and by the third, he gave up.  He hadn’t expected it to be this hard, not even in his worst nightmares.  He’d been sure of himself on the way.  He’d been ready to get right out the car, go in there and end this for good, with the worthy target there was to bear witness. 

He would do it too just as soon as he got out of the car.  That was all he had to do.  Get out of the car and go in there.  That was all he had to do.

“Loki?”

He was ashamed to have jumped.  He unlocked the door, as if that would make it like it never happened.

“I’m fine,” he told her. 

He put a lot into that lie, but still Jane frowned.  It could be that Loki had finally found someone other than Frigga who could see through his deception.  Then again, he’d never exactly been dishonest with her before.  It wasn’t so nice, starting now.

It couldn’t be helped.  In the end, he needed another few minutes of mental preparation to get himself out of that car.  Jane’s hand in his didn’t slip until he was out and she had to bend herself to the passenger seat to keep him.

“I’ll be right here, okay?”

“You could go park,” he said.  “It might be some time before they let me see him.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, and there was that smile again.  Someday, Loki swore to himself, he’d kiss that smile right off her face and leave her breathless.

He squeezed her hand appreciatively, happy for now with that. 

“I won’t be long.”

Letting go wasn’t easy, but they managed it.  Loki went up the steps, feeling not unlike a convict himself, on his way to the chopping block.

The guard opened the door for him, and he took just long enough to cast a final glance at Jane.  She waved him on, words he couldn’t hear slipping from her mouth.  Her lips read ‘go on.’

Loki took a breath and did just that, entered the well heated main office and stopping at the front desk.  A plump woman in a standard dark blue police uniform sat at the receptionist’s desk filling out reports.  She barely looked up when Loki coughed, but she lit up at the sight of him.

“Oh my god,” she breathed.  Loki was sure he could literally see her heart pounding out of her chest.  “You’re-“

“Here to see someone, thank you.”

**

Loki was buzzed in by a mustachioed cop who couldn’t have made his disdain for him more overt if he tried.  Loki had intentionally dressed in his ‘rocker’ best, keeping his still mostly clean pants from yesterday and adding his favorite Led Zeppelin shirt and his leather jacket.  Sunglasses completed the look and had Jane staring hungrily at him wherever she could.  It also had the effect of letting people like this poor lawman know that he was the one corrupting their children with his devil music. 

“Ten minutes,” the man gruffly stated.  “Make it fast, pretty boy.”

Loki flashed him a V sign, his palm inward.  The policeman scoffed.

“Quit with that fake hippie peace crap.  I know what you people are all about.”

“Nothing gets by you, Officer,” said Loki as the door slid shut.

The room was empty save for himself, a guard in the corner, and of course, the man himself.  Shield by plate glass, he treated the cold metal slab of a chair provided to him like a recliner.  His face was covered in wrinkles and pockmarks, his enormous toothy grin helping none. His teeth were straight and in need of brushing, his hair invisible, combed over wisps.  He crossed hairy arms over a thin chest that might have been muscular once, before he turned sixty and grew a paunch. 

Loki stood over his chair, observing him while he himself was observed.  Father and son had their first real look at each other, with eyes that were identical.

“Well, look at you,” Laufey said.  His voice was deep, like tires spinning on gravel.  “It’s like having Farbauti alive again.  Isn’t that just awful?”

If that was a joke, nobody was laughing, including Laufey himself. 

“I’m here,” Loki said.

Laufey raised an eyebrow.  “I can see that.”

Loki’s fingers curled together as he leaned in.  “I want to know why.”

“Why…” Laufey droned, spinning one hand around to spur him on.

“I shouldn’t have to explain,” said Loki tightly.  “Why now?  Why after all this time did you ask for me?  For years you could have told someone, and you didn’t.”

“You sound like you wanted to know about me,” Laufey grinned a second time.  “That’s so sweet of you.”

“You misunderstand me,” Loki clamped down on the stainless steel platform, feeling it bend.  “I don’t like being lied to, especially by my own family.  At the same time, I suppose letting a child grow up with the knowledge that they are the spawn of a monster is not something easily done.  So whatever I may feel for my adopted parents at the moment, what I want to know from you is: _what do you want from_ _me_?”

He could reach out and claw at the glass, the way he felt right now.  This had been a terrible idea.  He couldn’t handle it.  He couldn’t look at Laufey’s face- one that bore no more resemblance to his than Odin’s- and keep a leash on his primal emotions.  He couldn’t before when Laufey was quiet, and he couldn’t now when the sick bastard was laughing at him.

“Do you think this is about money?”  he asked.  “That I want a piece?  Then you should know, money doesn’t get you much in here, except for something to line your bed with.”  A bit of chipped paint on the wall caught Laufey’s attention, and for the rest of the time, he picked at it without a care in the world.  “I suppose it’s for the same reason you came here today: to see if it really was true.”  He leaned in to get a closer look, and Loki didn’t move a muscle. “You look so much like your mother.  It’s such a shame.  I always hated that woman.”

“Is that right?” Loki asked calmly.

“Mmm…” said Laufey.  “I can give you advice about women.  Contrary to popular belief, you’re better off having a hundred for one night than one for a hundred years.  Once the novelty wears off, they become quite unbearable.  That’s way I’m very happy that you came along.  The little bitch had planned on leaving me before she found out she was pregnant.  She had no money and nowhere to go, and she was too stupid to let go of whatever childish beliefs she had that prevented her from aborting you, so she was stuck.  It’s good, because I would’ve hated having to go look for her.  It’s always easier to make a kill when the target is close to home, so thank you for that.”

He bumped the glass, like a mockery of a friendly handshake.  Loki didn’t think much of it, he was checking the surrounding area.  The single guard was unarmed, out of shape and half-asleep.  His chair was pure metal, and moved easily from side to side.  For the first time, Loki allowed a smile to grace his features, one that was entirely meant for Laufey.  He tapped the glass in turn.

“That looks strong,” he said.

In one swift movement, he was up, chair in hand.  He slammed into the glass.  A web of cracks sprung out from the center as Laufey cried out and fell off his chair.

“HEY!” shouted the guard.

But Loki was ready for him.  An elbow to the stomach and a punch to the face was all it took to flatten him.  A blaring siren preceded three more guards racing into the room.  These three were armed with nightsticks, but still Loki was fearless.  One did not grow up in the family he did without knowing how to take on at least five opponents at once.  In seconds, the three of them joined their friend on the ground.  Loki kicked the closest one aside to get to his chair, which he smashed twice more into the glass before it finally gave way.  In one great leap, Loki was over Laufey.  The man had fallen from his chair, his face white with shock.

“Alright _father_ ,” he said with a grin.  “Now it’s my turn to talk.”

Loki pounced on him, and Laufey’s screams filled the room.

**

Sometimes, when faced with difficulties, Jane liked to sit in her car with the engine on.  The sound and feel of the vibrations brought her back to those long cars rides her Dad had been fond of.  They would sing songs, play the license plate game, or whatever caught their fancy.  Jane long ago outgrew those games, but never those car rides.  Maybe she could go on one with Loki when this was over.  She couldn’t imagine him coming out of this all sunshine and rainbows.  Something to clear his head before he faced his family again, that was what he needed.

Jane opened her eyes, checking the clock one more time to see that two minutes had passed since she looked last.  So far, he wasn’t taking more time than he said he would.  It was that unsettling rumble in her gut that told her something was up that had her on edge.  That and the growing screams, the sirens going off and the guards all running in the direction Loki went.

Jane pressed her face on the glass, her stomach clenched tight.

“Oh no…” she said.  “What is he doing?”

**

“Just what the hell do you think you were doing?!”

Jane slammed her hand on the glass.  On the other side, Loki grinned, nothing but humor in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he said.  “They don’t like it around here.”

“Yeah, I guess you would know,” Jane replied, eyeing the orange jumpsuit he’d been outfitted with. 

They were in a public meeting room; the guards learned their lesson from last time.  Jane could understand it, but she needed only a minute around L.A.’s scummiest to be ready for her own stay in solitary.  On either side of Jane was a curvaceous woman with bad neon blue highlights talking to a barrel chested man with a Mohawk, and a skinny, nervous man shying away from the hairy inmate he was visiting, who looked fully capable of fulfilling his threat to snap the other man in half over his knee once he got out.  Jane hid her face, focusing on Loki and his continued efforts to make her head exploded with his- for lack of a better word- criminal indifference. 

“And I’m glad you were able to rip into Laufey like that.  Really glad, but was it worth six months in here?”

“Actually, Heimdall and my lawyer were able to bring the sentence down to three.”

Jane blew out some air.  “Well, that should be no trouble at all for you.”

The neon woman and the Mohawk guy’s voices rose to uncomfortable levels.  The pair got to their feet and screamed unconnected words and phrases at each other.  Further compounded by the shouts of ‘settle down’ from the guards on duty, they were less coherent than toddlers learning to speak.  Jane covered her one ear, a sentiment was not shared by Loki.

“Jane, may I introduce you to Scuzzball and his ex-wife?”

 “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“Oh, but he tells such interesting stories about life as a ‘reformed’ drug dealer.”

Jane gave a half smile.  “Reformed, huh?”

“That’s how he tells it.”

If he was trying to make her laugh, he definitely was _not_ succeeding.  That was the message Jane tried and failed to get across as her lips quirked up.  She put her head down on the platform, and found it to be ice cold and unbearable for more than a few seconds.

“Hey, five more minutes!” a guard with a mustache shouted at them. 

Jane side-eyed him, as did Loki, though he was decidedly more threatening about it.

“Anyway, how are you doing?” Jane asked.

Loki hummed.  “Well, I’m in prison, so that’s a bit of a downer.”

“But are you _alright_?” Jane asked emphatically.  “I’ve read about the things that happen in these places, where certain guys get… targeted.  You know for…”

Jane waved her hands in complicated motions that had nothing to do with what she was referring to.  The implications were clear in her words alone, and Loki beamed.

“I’m flattered that you find me attractive enough for that,” he said.

“Loki, this is serious.”

“I take it very seriously,” he insisted, in the exact same tone of voice as when he was joking.  “It just so happens that I _was_ approached last week, and I had to politely inform the gentleman that I was not interested.  He was persistent at first, but I made him understand in the end.  Actually, I think that might him over there.  Hello Tiny!”

Loki waved to a man at the far right end; a man so large that it was a wonder that seat didn’t collapse under him.  He was bald with a full beard, and his body was muscled to the point of ridiculousness.  Splotchy bruises covered most of his face and upper body.  He had an arm and a leg in casts and crutches was propped up next to him.  He turned away from his matronly female visitor at the sound of his name.  Taking one look at Loki, the imposing man’s face fell, and a cry of fear left him that soon turned to blubbering sobs. 

Loki chuckled.  “He’s really not a bad fellow once you get to know him.”

Jane nodded, taking her time looking away from Tiny as he grabbed the crutches and hobbled on them as far from Loki as he could. 

“Aside from that, I’ve been mainly entertained by the letters my friends and acquaintances send.”

“They must be fun,” said Jane with a nod.  “What are they- congratulating you?”

“Several times over,” Loki answered brightly.  “Remind me to show them to you one day.  My personal favorite is the one from Ozzy.  I can’t read most of it as I imagine he was high when he wrote it, but it was to the effect of him being very proud of me and offering to bite Laufey’s ears off if he gives me more trouble.”

 “What about your family?”

He reacted better to the word family than Jane thought he would.  Unlike most of the little ‘slip-ups’ she made around him, this one was completely intentional. She needed to know where he stood, after this whole mess of an experience.  Laufey would be discharged from the hospital in two days.  If she thought Loki was going to try and get out of his cell, track the bastard down and finish the job (and she didn’t doubt at all that he could find a way), she would have to tell someone, for his own good.

“They’ve written and visited, as you have,” he said.  “Mother was here yesterday for the first time.”

“And?”

“She’s furious.  She yelled at me for twenty minutes and then grounded me for the rest of my life.  And no, my being of legal age apparently makes no difference.”

Jane snorted.  “See?  Didn’t I tell you she loved you?”

“You did,” Loki said sincerely.  “I think I’d do well to listen to you more often.”

His hand came up on the glass, open palmed.  Jane’s clenched loosely, spreading out to copy its placement.  The glass could not keep the heat of his skin from her.  Jane felt the prickling of it running down her arm.  Her toes curled together as they came apart, and it was still there.

“So,” Loki said huskily, “think you can break me out?”

Jane saw through him at once.  He wanted her to.  Through heavily lidded eyes, she met his gaze.

“I don’t know,” she said, lower than she knew it could.  “Maybe you should stay.  After all, you’ve been very bad.  You assaulted a mass murderer and twelve security guards.”

“Eleven actually.  The last one ran like a coward before I could get to him.”

Jane stooped over, picking up her purse and rummaging through it before his curious eyes.  From the depths of the bag came a deep red tube.  Jane waved it front of his face.

“I got this from my friend, Betty,” she said.  “It’s her favorite color because her fiancée loves it on her.  She thought maybe I’d like it to.”

Jane uncapped the top, bringing the lipstick to her mouth and tracing the lines of her lips.  She took her time painting them.  Something sparked in Loki’s eyes, something deep and feral that made his whole body tense.  Jane fought not to smile.  She couldn’t say what had gotten into her today, except that, as always, Loki was just the best bad influence there had ever been on her life.

Beads of sweat lined his brow when she was done, small but very telling.  He was hunched over, trailing over her lips and then the whole of her face as she leaned back in.

“How’s it look?” she asked.

Loki’s breath fogged up the glass.

“Delicious,” he said.

Jane closed the gap, her lips meeting the glass over his, leaving behind a perfect red imprint.  The guard was saved from yelling the time as Jane stood and hoisted the bag over her shoulder.  At the door, she turn, flipping her hair as she did.

“See you in three months,” she said.

**

Time passed faster than anyone could have imagined.  Jane visited often, as did Frigga and Sif and Hogun and Fandral.  His father came at least once, but unlike the rest, Jane never did get the story of that meeting out of him (though afterwards, he did start referring to him as ‘father’ again, if sparsely).  Thor was unable to come, thanks to a contractually obligated series of exhibition matches in Europe taking him out of the country until the day before Loki’s release.

On the day of, Jane sat on the hood of her car in front of the jailhouse.  Whistling along with the radio, Jane’s heels on the hubcaps kept up with the tempo.  It was a nice evening in April, warm with the welcome coming of spring.  Squirrels ran by collecting nuts wherever they could be found, and birds sang a tinkling song that didn’t go with the radio at all.

She faintly heard buzzing inside the building, slowing her to a stop.  She slid off the car, taking steps to the sidewalk as the doors opened up and one person stepped out.

Loki looked better than he’d been in months.  His face was fuller, his posture strong.  He took hearty breaths of fresh air, like he hadn’t felt it years.  In the clothes he wore when he arrived, he was missing only the adoring fans and the spotlights.  And the guitar, of course. 

Jane broke into a run, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs.  Her aim to jump into his arms ended with her in them.  His movements were so quick that she hardly felt the loss of ground under her feet.

Their lips were crushed together; Jane was glad she’d worn the lipstick again.  Their first kiss taught her several important things about Loki; the most important of them being that he was not a patient man.  As soon as their lips met, his tongue sought entrance, and once her mouth opened his hands crept under her shirt.  If there had been no one else around, he would have had her undressed before they reached the car.

Somehow, they got to Loki’s apartment.  Jane didn’t know the way from the jailhouse.  Maybe she hadn’t driven at all.

Their next stop was his bed, where they stayed for hours.  The lamp was on its lowest setting, Loki’s pant and Jane’s bra snuffing it out.  Jane caught her breath in the crook of his neck, her tongue running over teeth marks she left behind.  Their chests heaved, pushing against each other in a way that had Jane ready for seconds, even if her body wasn’t yet.  Loki’s hands made it worse, crawling lazily over her hips and buttocks.  Jane buried hers in his hair, slick with sweat.  She raked through it, finding no knots amid sinful silkiness.  Loki lowered his head- his hair falling through her fingers- bestowing light kisses over her.  That it was so soft was a surprise.  Nothing about Loki had been soft so far.  

“Jane,” he whispered.  “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Tell me,” she said.

“I used to like the name Silvertongue.”

Jane sighed, leaving an answering kiss on his Adam’s apple with an added swirl of her tongue to get his blood pumping.

“Is that so?” she asked.

“Indeed,” he growled.  His hips bucked, reminding Jane in the most delightful way that he was still inside her.  “It was only after Fandral made it my stage name that I lost my liking for it.  I actually got it in High School, from an old girlfriend.”

Loki flipped them.  Jane sunk into the mattress, her upper body fully exposed to the chilly air and his ravenous gaze.  He lowered himself, touching the tips of their noses together.

“Would you like to know why?” he asked.

He didn’t wait for an answer.  Like a snake, he slithered down the length of her body and between her legs, where he thoroughly proved his worthiness to bear the nickname for hours, until Jane could neither move nor scream again.

**

Loki didn’t know about doubling up for their first official date, not from the time Jane for asked to now.  She’d asked nicely, though- and in the middle of an orgasm, when of course he couldn’t say ‘no’ to anything.

The boardwalk was crowded this time of day, and while it wasn’t nice to have people constantly bumping your shoulder without apologizing, it had its perks.  He could hold Jane around her waist, keeping her close at his side, and she wouldn’t say a word against it.  Loki exhausted himself glaring off all the men loitering around.  Jane never noticed any of them, but they sure noticed her.  One look from Loki and they backed off, knowing their place.

“Do you see it yet?” he asked.  They were passing a sunglasses stand he was pretty sure he’d seen twice already.

“It’s just up ahead,” she said cheerfully.  “It’s the nicest little seaside bar.  I’m surprised you’ve never been there before.”

“There are a thousand bars in this city, Jane,” he said.  “Not even I visit them all.”

“Well, you’ll like this place.  I picked it out especially for today.”

“That’s lovely,” Loki said, growing increasingly bored with all this walking.  “I’m sure Fandral and Darcy will appreciate it.”

“Actually,” Jane said, slowing down, “Fandral and Darcy aren’t here.”

Loki furrowed his brow.  “Then who are…”

He didn’t need to finish the question.  One look at Jane and he knew.  He knew as well as if he’d been looking straight ahead and seen Thor’s head poking into view.  Sif looked like a black bush in comparison, slowly revealed to them as the crowd thinned out.  Together, they got more awestruck stares than Loki alone ever could.  Two celebrities were always better than one.

At the first sign of their arrival, Thor put on that stupidly happy grin he could’ve trademarked if he wanted to. 

“Hello, Sif,” Loki greeted his friend with a nod, which she returned.  That left him to face the inevitable.  “Hello, Thor…”

“Hello, Brother,” Thor said.

Loki sighed.  He never stopped calling him that. 

For once, Thor used his brain.  He saw that Loki would correct him, and then he pre-empted him with a bone-crushing hug.  For all that Loki had grown taller and stronger since their youth Thor would always surpass him in those departments.  It was as infuriating to admit as it was painful to experience. 

“I see that you’ve made it,” Thor boomed, as was his way.  “No worse for the wear ever after three months in that place.  I trust you took over in no time.”

“You wish to hear about the vicious chain gang I formed in prison to overtake it from the warden?” Loki asked dryly.

“Tell him when we get inside,” Sif cut in, clapping a hand on Loki’s shoulder once Thor released him. “I am in great need of a drink, and I think it’s going to rain soon.”

The sky rumbled in time with Thor’s laughter, almost like it answered to him.

“If my wife wishes it, so it shall be!”  He placed an arm around her, Loki receiving the coveted spot at his other side.  Jane took Loki’s hand to not be left behind and locked eyes with Thor.  “Jane, forgive me for not thanking you earlier.  I know getting him to come must have been a lot of work.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Jane said proudly.  “He may look tough, but there are ways around it.  At least for me there are.”

Jane’s hand brushed Loki’s hip, close to his behind, and it may have been an accident, or maybe not.

“Ha!  You really are as good for him as I thought you were,” said Thor.

“I’m glad we have your approval,” Loki said flatly.

Try as he might get free, Thor’s grip was like iron.  Escape was not an option.  So Loki gave up, he squeezed Jane’s hand and smiled when she did the same.  This was what she wanted, then.  A tearful family reunion; a night of reflection, of baring his soul and laying his heart on the table for the man he once called brother to see, in the hopes that someday, he could call him that again. 

Loki couldn’t say any of that would happen.  Sitting at the table with a beer in one hand while Thor gave a quick play by play of his time in Europe, followed by a much longer, louder (as he drank more) apology for not being there for him, he was sure that it wouldn’t.

But it made Jane happy.

It made Thor happy too, and there was something nostalgic about the way he yelled at the football game on TV and needed Loki to remove his beer bottle before he could throw it.

Maybe he _had_ missed this a little.

**

Of course, where the Odinson brothers went, trouble would follow.  Their wives and girlfriends all learned this lesson, and the ones who stayed bore witness that day to an obsessive Ivan Vanko fan recognizing the bitter rival of his hero at the bar.  They saw the beer poured over Thor’s head, felt sympathy pain when Thor’s solid punch knocked him off his feet.

When the bar descended into anarchy, Sif was in the fray, taking out thugs one by one. They quacking realized that the sexy metal chick was not worried about breaking a nail and had no trouble knocking their teeth out.  They fought her like a man, and in the end, that just gave Sif a higher body count. 

Hiding behind the bar, empty tankards and bottles were Jane’s means of defense, and for her lack of experience, she had to say, she did pretty well.  Lifting her head to crash an empty Jack Daniels bottle over the head of a particularly ‘forward’ opponent, she caught sight of Loki, back to back with as the two of them demolished whoever and whatever got too close.  Sometimes, Loki would grab a thug, hold him in headlock, and let Thor K.O. him.  Other times, the roles were reversed. 

There was something about the grueling scene that told Jane not to worry.  Everything was going to be alright.

It was a nice thought, a happy ending.  Jane thought a night in a jail cell was worth it, and she was sure Loki, Thor, and Sif thought so too.

Perhaps not Frigga, though. 

“Loki, you are no longer grounded for the rest of your life,” Frigga said as the guard opened the cell door to let them out.  “You are now grounded for the rest of your life _and_ your afterlife.  You too, Thor.”

“Yes, mother,” they said together.

Or Professor Selvig.

“Jane, I cannot believe this,” the man said, dabbing sweat off his brow with a soaked rag.  “When you told me you had a friend, you never said it was a- a- _him_!”

Loki’s sour expression could have only been matched by the level of outrage Erik exuded, either in his words or in the frantic way he waved his wallet around. 

“Well, I _was_ going to tell you,” Jane said.  “Things just got a little… complicated.”

“This is more than a little complicated, Jane!  Oh, it’s a good thing your father isn’t here to see this.  If you think I’m bad right now, you don’t know the half of it!”

Erik and Frigga scolded them all the way to the parking lot, where Erik’s station wagon and Frigga’s Rolls Royce awaited them.  They started strangers with a common goal, and when they left, they were shaking hands, friends bound by love for some very difficult children.

Jane hugged Loki goodbye.  A chaste kiss was all she’d give with so many eyes on them, but there was enough promise innate to it that both were satisfied, for now.

On the drive back home- their childhood home, as Frigga wanted to oversee the first week or so of her sons’ punishment- Loki felt it, hot on his mouth, the feel of her.

“You know, you still haven’t told us what you were doing with yourself in jail, Loki,” said Sif from the front seat.  She adjusted the rearview mirror to get a good look at him, and in turn give him a look at her charcoal covered eyes.  “What you _really_ did.”

Loki took a moment to stretch.  He felt a great need in his bones, to get up and run or to play his guitar until the world stopped turning.  In the absence of that, he gave her a grin, the best one he had in a long time.

“Honestly?  A lot of writing.”

**

_‘Hey, hey, hey all you head bangers out there!  You are listening to W-KRG, the best rock n roll station in this time zone.  Today, we are officially announcing the start of the holiday season with some big news about Midgard Serpent’s long awaited second album, slated to be released next month on December 15 th.  I don’t know about you, but I know what I’m asking Santa for this Christmas.  _

_‘Turns out that the Serpents are doing more than just stuffing your stocking this year.  Lead singer Fandral has just announced that they will be holding a concert on December 21 st at Dodgers Stadium to promote the album.  Tickets go on sale this Friday, so get your sleeping bags and lanterns ready because let’s be honest, you’ll have to start camping out now if you want a ticket._

_‘And now, here’s an early Christmas gift to you listeners- the world premiere of the album’s title track and lead single.  So throw up some horns, put on something leather, and get ready to dance, because tonight, we are Playin’ For Keeps!’_

 **

The stadium was a madhouse.  A greater sea of sweat, gyration and pure, unfiltered joy than Jane had ever seen, and she had the best seat in the house.

A stagehand rushed by, offering Sif a new bass guitar for the next number.  She gave Jane and Darcy high fives and walked back on stage, ready to rip into a bass solo that seemed to give at least half the audience some kind of religious experience.  Hogun slammed in on the drums.  Fandral screamed into the mic.  Finally, the guitar rose above the rest.  With one foot on the amp, Loki shredded through his part, undeterred by the cheers or Fandral traipsing about every which way. 

Darcy screamed louder than anyone.  Jane could say it for sure, not just because they were next to each other.  It was a bad idea, getting so worked up in her condition, but that was Darcy for you.  At least Jane had been able to get her off drinking and smoking for the next eight months.  The next step was getting her some Enya cassettes and helping her tell Fandral, but that could wait.

This was their part now, _their_ song.

Loki took center stage, guitar high over his head as the crowd chanted his name, in the way that she knew he loved.  He closed his eyes, taking it all in, all the power it gave him.

The song started slow.  Jane recited the chords in her mind.  She knew them all by heart.  The music picked up when Fandral came in, turning from a slow ballad to something big and magnificent.  Fandral sang his heart out, but this time, Loki was in command.  He stepped into the spotlight, it’s almost otherworldly glow consuming him.  His hands were fast, like the first time Jane saw him play, his face serene… and he really was like a god.

Three encores later, they walked off stage.  Loki never stopped; he handed his guitar off to a roadie and took Jane the moment she was in reach.  His kiss was hard and demanding, but so was hers.  There were a thousand people swarming around, but Jane couldn’t have cared if she tried.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, the strobe light shining on them like the diamond on her finger.  Lights went off one by one, leaving them in a world all their own. 

To those who existed outside that world, nothing could be known about Loki Odinson and Jane Foster, except for what they had, and that it was for keeps.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, we bring one more tale to a close.
> 
> I'm really sad to see this one go. First Reptilian, now this. It's good, though. Now I'll have more time to dedicate to Lokiday (and the other stories I'm writing). New chapters will be coming soon, along with a few other things such as another chapter of The Sweeter Times (which will better explain the plot of that story) and a collection of drabbles that I've written on tumblr. If you follow me there, you'll also the summaries for new stories that I'll be posting throughout the year. 
> 
> That's what you can expect. See you then!


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